


Landfill Heaven

by BirdOfHermes



Category: The Dresden Files - All Media Types, The Dresden Files - Jim Butcher
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Drabbles, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Friendship/Love, Hurt/Comfort, I Ship It, Male-Female Friendship, One Shot Collection, Romantic Fluff, Schmoop, Sexual Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-14
Updated: 2018-06-07
Packaged: 2018-06-08 07:45:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 50
Words: 96,616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6845650
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BirdOfHermes/pseuds/BirdOfHermes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of all my Harry/Murphy one-shots and drabbles cross-posted from my Tumblr.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Subtle

**Author's Note:**

> Because I am Queen of the Harry/Murphy Shipper Trashpile. I figured instead of forcing people to endlessly scroll through my Tumblr (minaminokyoko, for those in the fandom who know me), I'll let them endlessly scroll through a fic collection instead. Some of them are related to each other. Each one has a theme or a premise and various lengths, but all of them are either focused on the Dresden/Murphy friendship or romance.
> 
> Enjoy! And endlessly badger Jim Butcher about a release date for Peace Talks. Please. Do it for me.

“I warn you,” Thomas Raith drawled, lounging across Justine’s well-covered lap in the love seat of Harry’s borrowed apartment. “Mine’s pretty great.”

“Unless it’s _The Force Awakens_ on a specially-made wizard-available DVD, I’m not buying it,” Harry said, arching an eyebrow at his brother. He shook the small, flat box in his hand, scowling as he tried to figure out what was inside. 

“It’s still in theaters, man, give me a break. Even I have limitations. Besides, I’d never be so obvious.”

“Yes, we all know you’re the king of subtlety,” Murphy said around the mug of spiked eggnog.

“Absolutely. Quit stalling and open it, you wimp.”

“Alright, pretty boy.” He tore the wrapping paper off, then the small ribbon, and popped the slender box apart.

And promptly growled, “ _I SWEAR TO GOD I WILL END YOU_.”

Thomas erupted into hysterical laughter at the look on his brother’s face. “Now you have no excuse!”

Murphy peeked over Harry’s shoulder and promptly glared at Thomas as her cheeks reddened. There was a sprig of mistletoe with a small card only had the word “Karrin” written on it. “You’re a dead man, Raith.”

“Too late,” Justine grinned. “Pucker up, Dresden.”

“You guys are ridiculous.”

“And subtle. Don’t forget subtle.”

Harry snapped the box closed and tossed it on the coffee table, crossing his arms. “Next present.”

“Aw, don’t be a Grinch about it. ‘Tis the season, Harry.”

“Can you go one day without meddling in my personal life?”

“Nope. Because I’m family. And Karrin’s been here long enough that I want her to be a part of ours. So, for your own good, kiss the woman.”

Harry reddened even further and glanced at Murphy warily. She rolled her eyes, but smiled gently and shrugged. “Tis the season.”

He leaned over and kissed her gently. It was a slow one that warmed him down to his toes, moreso than the apple cider he’d drank earlier. She offered him a coy little smile and pulled away. Harry blinked a couple times, coming out of the daze, and then glared at Thomas and Justine again.

“Happy?”

“I’ll be happy when I get a second niece.”

“THAT’S IT YOU’RE DEAD.”


	2. A Very Dresden Thanksgiving

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An AU version of one of Harry's first family Thanksgivings. It's AU because in this universe, Charity's son named after Harry is infant age and not the age he is in the timeline of the series shortly after Cold Days.

There were a lot of things a person could do to get on Harry Dresden’s shit-list, but one item at the top of the list was waking him up in the morning.

 

Seven or eight knocks at the front door to Molly’s apartment roused the wizard from his glorious slumber. He growled mutinously and pulled a pillow over his head to block out the hammering, but it kept coming. Whoever it was had no intention of giving up. He growled, threw on his robe, and shuffled down the hallway to the door, intending to wring the neck of the person on the other side.

“ _What?_ ” he snarled after snatching the door open.

“Gee, Harry, nice to see you too,” Karrin Murphy mused, one golden eyebrow raised.

Harry’s snarl faded into his usual sleepy scowl. “Oh. Hey, Murph. Bye, Murph.”

He moved to shut the door in her face, but she caught it with her hand. “God, you’re such a baby in the morning. What are you so happy about?”

He rubbed his eyes with one hand. “Spent most of the night chasing a bunch of filthy rat demons in the sewers. They’d been stealing food from one of the boys’ homes. Didn’t get in until after two o’clock this morning.”

Murphy winced. “Oh. Now I do feel a little guilty.”

“It’s fine,” he sighed. “What do you need?”

“I don’t need anything. Just you.”

He blinked. Murphy jumped a little as she realized how it sounded and quickly elaborated. “I’m under orders to bring you over to the Carpenters’ house.”

“Why? Something happen?”

She stared. “No, Harry. It’s Thanksgiving.”

He stared back. “…wait, _it’s November?_ ”

She glanced past him into the apartment. “How long have you been in there? Yes, it’s November, and I told you a week ago that they asked us to come over.”

He caught her wrist and pulled it up towards his face, checking the time. “Then why the hell are you here at freaking nine o’clock in the morning?”

She snatched her arm free. “Because I knew it’d take you that long to get ready.”

Harry scowled again. “Can’t get ready for something I’m not going to.”

“Harry—”

“C’mon, Murph, I’m not exactly a holiday kinda guy. You want to know what happens if I get anywhere near a fryer when someone’s got a turkey? Atomic holocaust, that’s what. Let me go back to bed already.”

Murphy crossed her arms. “Charity sent me.”

Harry paled. “Uh. She, uh, did?”

“Uh-huh.”

He paused. “Maybe you should lead with that next time.”

Murphy smirked. “Maybe. Go get dressed. If you behave, we’ll hit the drive thru on the way.”

The thought of donuts and hot coffee made him shiver with pleasure. “I’d kiss you, but my morning breath is terrible.”

She rolled her eyes. “Get moving, Dresden.”

“You saucy flirt, you.”

She started to say something rude, but then she just smiled coyly. “I’m not the one giving the peep show.”

He frowned, and then realized in his haste to answer the door and murder his visitor, he hadn’t bothered to put on a shirt, and he’d slept in his boxers last night. Harry blushed clear up to the roots of his hair and snatched the robe closed, pretending to ignore the triumph in Murphy’s blue eyes.

“So do I owe you a twenty or—”

“Not another word, Murph.”

 

“You hate me, don’t you?”

“I thought that went without saying,” Murphy said, idly tossing a couple bunches of fresh collard greens into the shopping cart the grumpy wizard behind her was pushing. She’d enforced cart-duty on him because he was easier to see in the crowd. Most supermarkets stayed open on Thanksgiving for last minute and forgetful customers. Charity had asked for a couple of items that she hadn’t gotten due to Harry and Murphy being late additions to their Thanksgiving dinner.

“If Mab saw this, she’d gut me like a fish and hang me outside of Arctis Tor like a frozen scarecrow. This is just undignified, Murph.”

She leveled a glare at him over her shoulder. “Winter Knights gotta eat, buddy. Your ego will survive somehow. It’s made it this far.”

He sighed, hanging his head. “Can I go back to bed now?”

“Keep whining and you’re not getting any candy when we get to the register.”

She walked around the corner towards the canned food aisle. Harry glared at her back and followed.

“If you deny me a Snickers bar, I will burn this place to the ground.”

 

The Carpenter household and yard looked eerily similar to the gingerbread houses Harry had seen on display at the supermarket: decked out with lights, its roof glistening with fresh snow so dense that it looked like frosting, and a friendly wreath hanging at the front door. As for the gingerbread men themselves, Harry spotted Sanya and Molly in the front yard lobbing snowballs at two of Molly’s siblings. As much as he wanted to be in bed right now, the sight brought a faint smile to his lips.

He gathered the paper bag full of groceries from the floor of Murphy’s car and stepped out into the crisp air, inhaling deeply to prepare himself for socialization. Murphy came around beside him and they watched the barrage of snowballs until they were acknowledged. And promptly threatened.

“Hey,” Murphy said mildly. “You can’t shoot an unarmed civilian.”

“Ditto,” Harry said, eying Molly in particular.

The blonde pursed her lips and glanced at Sanya. “What do you say? Should we enact a temporary ceasefire?”

“ _Da_ ,” Sanya rumbled in good humor, winking at the pair. “Plenty of time for it later.”

“How generous of you,” Harry said with a mock-bow, and then swept past them to the front door. Murphy juggled the bag for a moment and opened the door, hollering, “Coming in!”

“In here,” Charity answered from the kitchen.

She straightened up from chopping celery as they entered, her blonde hair in a bun with little wisps escaping at her nape and forehead. Harry the Second sat in a high chair devouring what appeared to be the leftover innards of a slice of blueberry pie, his fat cheeks and fingers purplish-blue. His half-full mouth opened wide with a smile as he spotted the wizard of his namesake, making grabby-hand motions at him to be picked up.

“Happy Thanksgiving, Harry,” Charity said, her eyes slightly narrow.

“Happy Thanksgiving, Charity,” Harry answered. “Where would you like the groceries?”

She gestured towards the counter to her right with her butcher knife. “Over there. Thank you again, Karrin. You are too kind.”

“Happy to help,” Murphy said, dropping the bag and unloading its contents. “How’s the bird coming?”

“Right on schedule. Michael is out back prepping the fryer.”

She glanced at Harry frostily. “I trust you’ll keep a wide berth around it for the duration of your visit.”

“Of course. Nothing says Thanksgiving like a housefire.”

Murphy elbowed him in the gut and he winced. “What can I help with?” she asked.

“Chopping carrots would be lovely, thank you. Harry, get my son cleaned up, would you?”

Harry made a show of searching the kitchen. “Son? I thought we were entertaining Cookie Monster.”

She merely raised an eyebrow at him. Harry faltered. “You know, because he’s blue.”

“Is he now?”

Harry sighed. “Uncultured, that’s what you are. Who doesn’t like Sesame Street? I assumed Bert and Ernie were Catholic. Ow!”

He rubbed his shin where Murphy had kicked him, grabbed a towel, and scooped up Harry the second, carrying him off. He sniffed a couple times on the way. “Oh, and you’ve got a present for me too? It’s not even Christmas yet, kid.”

Murphy sighed. “Be right back. Diaper changing is not exactly his forte.”

She found Harry in the nursery, coughing and gagging as he disposed of the dirty diaper in the sealed trash receptacle nearby. “God, the next time I need to kill someone, I’m taking this kid with me. He could put down one of the Billy Goats’ Gruff.”

She crossed her arms and stood next to him, fighting to keep a smile off her face. “Do you know how to use that thing?”

He brandished the baby wipe at her. “You are more than welcome to take over.”

“No thanks, I’m good.”

“I figured you wanted to watch me suffer. Hey, cool it, Mr. Wiggles. I’m gonna remember this when you’re seventeen and you want me to buy you a beer.”

She bit her lower lip, shaking silently with laughter as Harry attempted to clean the squirming toddler. She plucked a nearby stuffed animal from the toy chest and waved it over the child’s head. Mesmerized, Harry the Second stopped wiggling and stared at it, his eyes wide. Harry the first finished cleaning him up and grabbed the baby powder.

“Go ahead. Ask. You’re wondering how I of all people know how to change a diaper.”

“I assumed you’d read about it.”

“Nope. Molly’s fault. We were here one day when she was still my apprentice and she had to run out and get something. Kid waited until she pulled out of the driveway and dropped a fresh load. She was gone for the better part of an hour, so I had no choice but to learn by doing.”

Murphy shook her head. “You poor thing.”

“Yeah, I couldn’t smell anything for days.”

“I was talking to him, being stuck alone with you for an hour.”

Harry glanced at the child. “Did you hear that? Defend your godfather. Unleash your wrath upon this heathen.”

Harry the second gurgled and laughed. Harry the first scowled. “Traitor.”

Murphy chuckled and bumped him aside with her hip. “That’s not how the diaper strap goes. Here.”

She pointed and he followed instructions before wrestling the tiny tike back into his onesie. Apparently, the toddler enjoyed being held by someone who was a few inches shy of seven feet tall, because he latched onto Harry’s neck and grabbed small fistfuls of his dark hair, draping his body over his right shoulder. Harry tried to untangle him and then just gave up, becoming a human jungle-gym for the next few moments as the child entertained himself.

He caught Murphy staring at him, her expression thoughtful. “What?”

She blinked rapidly and cleared her throat, averting her gaze. “Nothing.”

“Murph.”

Her cheeks reddened. “It’s not a bad look for you.”

She escaped the nursery before he could say anything. Harry glanced up at the toddler perched on his shoulders, smiling a little. “Nice work, buddy.”

While Murphy cooled off in the kitchen chopping vegetables, Harry slipped out into the backyard, though after wrapping his cohort in a miniature parka to keep him warm. Michael was crouched in front of the fryer, humming softly as he read the instructions.

“Michael,” the wizard said, unable to resist a grin.

“Harry,” the Knight of the Cross said, beaming, his eyes bright with surprise. “Glad you could make it.”

Harry shook his hand—after of course making sure Harry 2.0 didn’t lose his perch on his shoulders—and arched an eyebrow. “Like I had a choice. I’d rather take on the entire Winter and Summer Courts than incur the wrath of your wife on Thanksgiving.”

Michael laughed. “I regret that you’re here under duress, but I’m still glad you came. Karrin too.”

“Yeah, they’re both schemers and forces to be reckoned with.”

Michael’s smile softened. “They mean well. You tend to be very set in your ways, Harry. You don’t like holidays. I invite you over every year and you almost always turn me down.”

He shuffled his feet a bit, avoiding his friend’s fond gaze. “I have good reason to, in case you forgot. The whole Winter Knight thing pretty much makes me a target year-round. Not exactly a festive sort of job.”

“That’s true enough, but…” Michael touched his arm, his voice gentle. “You haven’t seen Maggie yet, have you?”

“No,” Harry whispered, his hands suddenly colder than the ice beneath his boots.

Michael nodded towards the large tree near the fence. Beneath one of its limbs was a swing made with sturdy old chains and the traditional plastic seat. Harry’s enormous Foo dog, Mouse, was planting happy doggy kisses all over the cheeks of a little girl with a mop of dark brown hair and coffee-with-cream skin. Harry’s heart played bongos with his ribs and his breath shortened.

Michael scooped up his son and squeezed Harry’s shoulder. “Go. Talk to her.”

“Michael—” Harry croaked.

“Go. I’m here if you need me, but I promise that you won’t.” He gave him a nudge forward.

Harry stuck his shaking hands in the pockets of his duster and walked down the short hill towards his daughter and her faithful dog. Mouse immediately noticed him and barked, racing for him with his tail wagging madly. Harry smiled a bit and rubbed his ears, squatting in the snow.

“Hey, mutt. Miss me?”

Mouse lapped at the side of his face, his cold, wet nose burying itself in his neck to inspect the new smells. “Yeah, I switched cologne, I know. Wasn’t my choice.”

“He likes you,” a small voice said.

Harry gulped and glanced up to see Maggie facing him, her brown eyes fixed on Mouse. “He says you’re his best friend.”

Harry rose and pushed his hands in his pockets again. “Did he, now?”

Maggie nodded as Mouse trotted back over to her and sat down, his tail thumping squiggly lines into the snow. Harry shrugged. “Well, I did let him finish my dinner a lot. Must have bought me some good will.”

“Molly says you gave him to me.”

Harry nodded. “Mm-hmm. He could use someone smart to take care of him. I figured you’d be just the girl for the job.”

Maggie’s face broke into a smile then. “Thank you. I love him. He’s the best.”

“That he is.”

She blinked once or twice, seeming to truly see him this time. “Are you Harry Dresden?”

Harry’s heart tried to jettison out of his chest. “Yes.”

Her little hands tightened on the swing’s chain, and on Mouse’s woolly fur. “Oh. Did you come to eat dinner with us?”

“Yes. Charity asked me to come by.”

“Are you going to leave after that?”

He swallowed hard, and with great effort. “Probably.”

“Oh.” She paused, her boots scuffing the frozen grass. “Are you gonna come back?”

“Yes. Of course I will.”

Maggie nodded. “Good. I like it here. It’s nice. I think you’d like it here too.”

Harry offered her a watery smile. “Me too.”

She scooted back in her swing a little, lifting her legs. “Molly says you’re strong. You fight monsters. Bad guys.”

She tilted her head back. “Can you push me?”

“Absolutely, kiddo.” He stepped forward and gave her a push. She giggled and Mouse dutifully stepped aside to sit next to them.

“Higher, higher!” Maggie laughed.

Harry laughed and cried and pushed his daughter on the swing. He didn’t realize how long the two of them had been at it until Charity called them in for lunch. Maggie hopped down and grabbed Harry’s hand, grinning.

“Come on, come on! They’re gonna eat it all if you don’t!”

Harry wiped his face clean and chuckled, following her. “Alright, alright, I’m coming.”

The whole family packed in around the dining room table for sandwiches and chips, filling the air with conversation and teasing after Harry recounted his adventures in the sewers catching rat demons from Nevernever.

Afterward, Michael fired up the fryer and Harry relocated to the front yard for a snowball fight with most of the Carpenter children, Maggie, Sanya, and Murphy. Dinner was ready and served promptly at five-thirty, followed by hot chocolate—and spiked apple cider for the grownups—and a viewing of _A Charlie Brown Thanksgiving_ , courtesy of a suppression spell from Molly, of course.

Harry stood on the front porch with a fresh, hot mug of cider, leaning against the railing and looking up at what he could see of the stars. A moment later, the front door opened and closed and he heard faint footfalls.

“So,” Murphy said from around her mug. “Not the unmitigated disaster you were anticipating.”

Harry heaved a sigh. “See, why did you have to go and say that? It’s like pitching a no-hitter. Don’t jinx the pitcher, Murph.”

She rolled her eyes. “You’re even more paranoid than usual. We’ve got two reigning champions of the Winter Court here, two Knights of the Cross, and a former cop with Deadshot-levels of perfect aim. I think we’re covered, Harry.”

“Even so,” he said, frowning into his mug. “There’s a lot of stake in this little house. I don’t like to play the odds.”

Murphy settled in next to him, close enough to bump his arm. “Is that why you always say no to the invite?”

Harry shrugged, his voice quiet. “Partially.”

He glanced back at the house over his shoulder. “It’s also because I don’t really know what to do with myself when I’m here. I feel like I’m always intruding somehow since it’s not my family.”

Murphy snorted. “Since when?  Maggie is your daughter, you apprenticed Molly, you’re Harry the second’s godfather, you’re arguably Michael’s best friend, and Charity is essentially your mother-in-law.”

Harry arched an eyebrow at that last part and Murphy grinned. “Well, she constantly judges you and would love to break your nose if given the chance, so that’s my comparison.”

“Point taken. But—”

“But nothing, Harry. They’re it. They’re family. And you’re never going to be an intrusion or an unwelcome guest. I can’t believe you’ve been with them all these years and still think you’re an outsider. Hell, I bet you a dollar they’ll have stocking hanging over the mantle for you at Christmas.”

Harry kept staring into his mug, saying nothing. Murphy reached over and took his hand, smiling faintly.

“God, you’re such a sap sometimes.”

He choked on a laugh, his eyes dangerously wet. “Thanks, Murph.”

“Don’t mention it.”

He shook his head, glancing at her. “No, I mean it. Thanks for dragging me out of bed and showing me the wonders of normal holidays. If I’d have known it was this nice, I might’ve done it sooner.”

She ran her thumb over his scarred knuckles. “You’re welcome.”

They sat in comfortable silence, holding hands for a while, until she sighed and checked her watch. “I’m supposed to put in an appearance at Castle Murphy. Want me to drop you off?”

“This late? They’re still having dinner.”

“Yep,” Murphy said. “It’s an all-nighter with the Murphy clan.”

Harry eyed her. “Lisa and Rich gonna be there?”

She grimaced. “Inevitably.”

“Want me to tag along as your date?”

She blinked up at him. “No, you don’t have to. It’s already late and I’m sure you’ve got better things to do than be my fake eye-candy for the rest of the night.”

“Not really, but…” He smiled quite suddenly and she cocked her head to the side.

“What?”

“Well, I just had a thought.”

“Those are rare for you. Spill.”

“I could go and be your fake eye candy,” he said, using his grip on her hand to tug her a little closer. Murphy gulped as something wicked and borderline insidious slid across his dark eyes and made her heart rate all but triple.

“Or we could go home and I could be your real eye candy,” he murmured, kissing the inside of her wrist. Murphy promptly dropped her cider with a squeak and shook her now-sticky fingers.

Murphy licked her lips, pretending to consider it rationally. “Well, that was an awful nice peep show this morning.”

Harry grinned. “Mm-hmm.”

“And it would be a valid excuse as to why I didn’t show up.”

“Mm-hmm.” Harry let go of her left hand in favor of her right one. He slipped her first cider-drenched finger inside his mouth and Murphy gasped, her knees nearly giving out at the intimacy of the gesture, and all that it implied. He cleaned each digit one by one, taking his sweet time and staring straight at her all the while, and by the time he got to her pinky, Murphy had made a decision.

“I’ll go get my coat.”

 

Murphy’s home phone rang at around nine o’clock. She rolled over onto her side and groped for it, clearing her throat before she answered. “Hello? Hey, Mom. No, I’m alright, I didn’t forget.”

Behind her, Harry also rolled over and planted a hot, open-mouthed kiss on the spot below her right breast, along the rib cage, and she let out a hiss of air.

“Huh? No, I’m fine. It’s just that something came.”

Harry ran his hand across her bare hip, quirking an eyebrow at her phrasing. She blushed. “I-I mean, something came up. Up is what I meant to say.”

A pause. “Will I be by later?”

Harry’s hand disappeared somewhere very naughty and Murphy nearly dropped the phone, her eyes rolling back for a moment. “Probably not. But I can come by tomorrow morning and see you guys.”

Another pause. “Am I bringing someone with me?”

She glanced at him over her shoulder and he shrugged. “I guess another Thanksgiving wouldn’t kill me.”

His hand moved again. Murphy bit her bottom lip for a second and found the strength to answer. “Yes, I’m bringing someone. We’ll talk about it in the morning. Okay. Love you too. Good night.”

She hung up and aimed a slap in his direction, which made him chuckle as he dodged it. “I am going to kill you for pulling that.”

He adopted an innocent look. “Why, Murphy, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

She tried to glare, but his hand hadn’t moved from its spot and it was doing something rather… _interesting_ …at the moment that made it hard to concentrate. “I can break your arm in seven places.”

“Fairly certain I’ll be needing it later.”

Her breathing picked up. “Yeah, to sign your death warrant.”

He leaned across her body, smirking, reaching for her lips. “Later. Not now.”

She tried to threaten him again, but it didn’t quite work because she was too busy moaning. Harry grinned wolfishly and kissed her.

“Happy Thanksgiving, Murphy.”

FIN


	3. Side Effects

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Murphy discovers some unusual side effects while sleeping (literally) with her new boyfriend Harry.

The first time Karrin Murphy slept with Harry Dresden—physically, not in the Biblical sense, although that was usually part of the package deal these days—she had been anticipating things to be weird.

Just not _this_ weird.

“Double bacon cheeseburger.”

Harry’s sleep-strangled voice came mumbled through the hair at the crown of her head. He’d wrapped himself around her completely, his chin resting partially in the pillow and partially on her skull. She hadn’t fallen asleep just yet because she’d been enjoying the simple intimacy of being in his arms. He was warm enough that she didn’t mind how cold the room had gotten after they blew out the candles.

She arched an eyebrow and tilted her head, trying to look at him. “What?”

To her surprise, his eyes were closed and his mouth was slightly open. A snore escaped a moment later and Murphy realized he was sleep-talking.

She tried to pretend that she wasn’t giggling, but that was exactly what she was doing now, her upper body shaking with the effort to hold it in. Harry Dresden mumbled in his sleep. Who would have guessed it?

She stayed awake another half hour or so, but he didn’t say anything else, so she drifted off but not before an idea surfaced. She decided to see if it was a one-time occurrence, or a recurring one.

The next night it was, “Cyborg giraffes.”

The night after that it was, “Deep-sea grilled cheese sandwich.”

The night after that it was, “Rainbow sofa pillows.”

Then there was “monkey Voltron” and Murphy simply couldn’t take it anymore. The giggling had gotten heavy enough that she couldn’t stifle it, her face pressed into the pillow, shaking from head to toe enough that Harry snorted and woke up.

“Huh-what?” he blinked sleepily at his laughing girlfriend. “Karrin?”

“I…I’m f-fine…” She dissolved into another bout of giggles, and Harry finally noticed.

“Uh. Did I miss something?”

“Monkey Voltron, apparently,” she said through gasps.

Harry arched an eyebrow. “What?”

She rolled over to face him, her cheeks pink and sore from smiling. “You mumble in your sleep, Harry.”

Both eyebrows rose this time. “I do?”

“Yeah, you have for the last few nights.”

He shifted a bit, starting to frown. “Am I keeping you up?”

She shook her head. “No. You usually only say a couple of words and it’s only once a night, probably right before you enter REM sleep. And it’s always total gibberish.”

Harry blushed then. “Sorry. I, uh, don’t remember anyone else telling me I did that.”

“You probably didn’t before.”

He lifted onto his elbow. “Do you…think that means something?”

“Of course it does.”

“Something bad?”

“No, Harry.” She scooted closer, touching the side of his face. “This—us—is new. Any time you break a routine, there are unexpected side effects. Most likely it means that your dreams aren’t as stressful as they used to be, so you’re having those weird Technicolor nonsensical ones. I’m no expert, but I doubt it’s harmful.”

She paused. “And it’s pretty damn entertaining to hear what you come up with, to be honest.”

Harry sighed and shook his head. “Even when I’m asleep, you still find something to torture me with.”

“Tough luck, Dresden. Shouldn’t have fallen in love with me.”

“Yeah, that was a very poor decision on my part.” He leaned in for a kiss and she reciprocated. Vigorously. Enough that they lost out on another forty minutes of sleep. Murphy certainly didn’t mind.

“Invisible pickle jar.”

Murphy chuckled quietly and kissed his forehead before settling in beside him.

“Sweet dreams, Harry.”

FIN


	4. Body Swap

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An April Fools' spell gone horribly wrong. Or, right, if you ask one stupid wizard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A Tumblr buddy of mine gave me the prompt and I just had to run with it and I am so sorry.

“No. No. No, _screw this_. This cannot be happening right now.”

Karrin Murphy’s voice was hard and furious…but it wasn’t her voice anymore.

She was staring at herself, and not in a mirror. She could see the shock, the panic, the confusion, and knew her expression reflected the same. Her words had come out a deep baritone, and there was only one horrifying explanation why.

“Oh, _hell’s bells_.” Harry Dresden said with Murphy’s mouth.

Murphy sat up from where she’d been sprawled against the hallway floor, staring at her too-big Harry Dresden hands. Everything just felt _wrong_. She was too tall, too heavy, too ungainly, and too slow. Oh, she was going to kick the living shit out of him for getting her into this mess, and then she was going to shoot several thousand holes in the rogue warlock responsible for this cockamamie spell.

Harry sighed, and Murphy shuddered as she heard her own voice, except it wasn’t coming from her. “This is what we get for chasing after a bad guy on April Fools’ Day.”

She grimaced and pressed a hand to the wall, using it to help her stand. She nearly toppled over when she realized just how freakishly tall she was now. Her own body looked tiny and cute in comparison. Huh. No wonder he had such a crush on her…

“This is what I get for having you for a friend,” she grumbled, and it sounded much more threatening in Harry’s rumbling timber. At least she liked that. Sort of. “Come on. By the sound of it, the little shitbrain is running down the fire escape.”

Harry fumbled with her gun for a moment and handed it over, rolling his neck in that weird masculine way and sucking in a couple of readying breaths. Then he paused and she arched an eyebrow at his sudden silence.

“What?”

He glanced upward guiltily. “Huh? Nothing! You ready?”

She eyed him and a definite blush curled across his cheeks. He coughed, avoiding her gaze. 

“Sorry. It’s kind of… _distracting_ to have something jiggle when I breathe hard.”

“As soon as you’re back in your own body, I’m kicking your ass.”

“Oh, don’t get me started on that.”

“ _Harry, I swear to God, I will shoot you.”_


	5. Murphy's Bad Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Exactly What It Says on the Tin.

It was three o’clock in the morning and Sgt. Karrin Murphy was covered in roasted flamingo entrails.

Don’t ask.

She’d flung much of said guts off of her body onto the porch and scraped it out of her car seat, but globs still clung to her blonde hair and eyelashes and in her ears and she was going to murder Harry Dresden first thing tomorrow morning. After a shower. And cleaning every gun she owned so that it would be ready to perforate his stupid 6’9’’ corpse.

She slammed the door to her home shut, kicking the bottom of it for good measure, and then stomped immediately for the bathroom. Unfortunately, her eagle eyes happened to see a blinking red light on the answering machine and she paused. She continued glaring contemptuously at it and wondered if she could set it on fire with her mind, but the fire would be a bitch to put out. She stomped over and hit the button, grimacing as a few burnt bright-pink feathers floated from her shoulders.

“Murph…it’s me. Don’t erase this message before I can apolo—”

She snarled and slammed the Erase button, nearly toppling the device off the table in her hallway. It beeped weakly and then continued on to the next message.

“Murph, I’m sorry, but I need you to come in at eight o’clock. Body dropped and we’re short staffed this week. Buy you coffee to make up for it, I promise.” _BEEP._

“Karrie, it’s me. You haven’t been answering when I called and I need to know if you’re going to need a recommendation for a hairdresser for your sister’s wedding. I know you get busy, but this is important to Lisa and you know her happiness is—” _BEEP._

Silence now. Murphy breathed slowly through her nose a couple times. Then, of course, something else broke the silence.

“Are you tired of being at home alone? Is your sex life sad and unremarkable? Then try—”

Murphy ripped the answering machine out of the wall and stalked into the bathroom.

–

“Perfect,” she growled, glaring into the freezer. “Just freaking Jim-Dandy perfect.”

She shook her head at the empty spot where she had sworn there was a pint of Rocky Road and shut the fridge door, instead scrounging through her cabinets for another fruitless three minutes. She’d forgotten that in order to stay in shape, she’d purged the house of any junk food, and it was so early that no one save the gas stations would be open to get her fix. Finally, she settled for a red apple and sat on the couch, turning her blue eyes glumly on the coffee table.

Paperwork.

She _hated_ paperwork.

Case after case that she’d closed in S.I. needed to be reviewed, signed, stamped, and then sent to the appropriate departments by morning. She had just sat down to get started on it after a long day when Dresden called with his alleged ‘emergency’ and the entire debacle had squandered the time she specifically set aside for finishing the mountain of papers. She was going to kill him.

Sighing, Murphy scooted forward to the edge of the cushion and began poring over reports, occasionally crunching into the disappointing fruit with its empty calories in her lap. She got about an hour in and felt her eyelids drooping, so she made a pot of coffee and brought back a mug.

Only to trip slightly and slosh the coffee over exactly half of what she’d already signed.

Murphy stood there, in the middle of the room, and pictured herself as an atomic bomb going off in a desert somewhere, wiping out all life within a fifty mile radius.

Just as she was contemplating a bar run, she heard a knock at her front door.

At four AM.

Murphy grabbed her Sig, wiped the sticky coffee residue off her right hand, and went to answer it.

“Who is it?”

A baritone voice cleared its throat and then spoke.

“I am the terror that flaps in the night!”

Murphy rolled her eyes, ground her teeth, and raised her voice. “Go home before I shoot you, Harry.”

“C’mon, Murph. You’re not gonna shoot me. Why waste a bullet when you can judo-chop me in the kneecap and then slam my head into the porch a few hundred times?”

She quirked an eyebrow upward. Not a bad idea, actually. Nevertheless, she opened the door and kept the gun visible, leveling her most deadly glare at the wizard. “It’s four in the freaking morning, Harry. Go home.”

He stood on her flamingo-splattered porch with his hands behind his back, one black eye, and scratch marks on his neck that had reddened with irritation. His breath curled in the icy Chicago air and he was making that face like he was trying not to smile at her expense. He radiated a weird cheerfulness somehow, although she could see the dark marks beneath his eyes indicating he too was exhausted. Something in her gut twitched and faltered, but she shoved it down because she was going to stay mad at him, dammit, no matter what.

“Harry,” she said sweetly. “Did you know that I can buy bullets in bulk from the precinct and get a 25% discount?”

Harry’s lips twisted in a smile and then he brought his hands out from behind him. “You sure about that, Murph?”

She stared at him for a few seconds. “Asshole.”

Then she stepped aside. “Bowl’s in the dishwasher. Spoon’s in the drawer by the microwave.”

The wizard grinned and came inside, and it looked remarkably like when his puppy Mouse would come barreling inside with his tail wagging so hard it messed up his gait. She locked the door and rolled her eyes, though she wasn’t sure if it was at him or herself. Every time. She fell for it _every time_.

She returned to the den with her soiled paperwork and sat down, trying to see if any of it was salvageable. Not particularly, meaning she’d have to get the papers reprinted and then sign them all…again. And the legal department was going to have a freaking field day when she told them.

Harry appeared in the doorway with two bowls, each with three hilariously oversized scoops Rocky Road in them, and doused with chocolate syrup, no less. “Geez, Murph, what did the former trees do to deserve death by coffee?”

“Speaking of death, that pint of ice cream just saved your life.” She held out her hand and he offered the delicious confection.

“I know. I’m clever that way,” he said, plopping down next to her.

“Clever. Ha. Surprised lightning didn’t strike just now,” she grumbled, shoveling the heavenly frozen treat into her mouth. Her toes curled on the carpet. _Oh, baby, yes._

“Please. That can’t possibly happen twice in one night. Ruined a perfectly good pair of cowboy boots too.”

“Did the Beetle survive?”

“Of course.” Harry adopted a brief British accent. “God himself could not sink that car.”

She rolled her eyes again, but then trained them on him as he continued mowing through the ice cream. “Your neck looks like a Bengal tiger gave you a hickey.”

He choked slightly, and she fought a smile. “It’s fine, Murph.”

“You treat it yet?”

He scowled in that childish way of his. “Yes.”

Which, in Dresden language, meant “it hurt too much and I’m a giant wimp.” Murphy ate another couple of spoonfuls and disappeared into the bathroom. Harry groaned when she returned with her First Aid kit.

“Oh, come on! I brought you ice cream and you’re still going to torture me?”

“My porch is covered in _giant flaming flamingo remains_ , Harry.”

He paused. Then he sighed, shucked off his duster, and stretched out across her couch, laying his head in her lap. Murphy sifted her hands through his dark hair, inspecting his black eye first, and applied a bit of antiseptic cream, which made him wince.

“You could at least pretend not to enjoy my pain,” he muttered, staring at the ceiling. She hated it if he looked at her while she tended to him. It wasn’t because of the Soulgaze, though. It was just too…intimate, for her taste.

“Wuss.” She tilted his head aside for access to his neck and shoved the collar of his t-shirt aside, noting that the abrasion went down farther than she thought.

“Shirt.”

“Huh?”

“Yours. Off.”

He grunted, sat up, and swept it off in a smooth motion. Murphy felt a pang of worry as she saw the faint burn marks from the lightning strike patterned across his back muscles and down his arms. The skin had turned mottled dark pink and was probably sensitive to any movement, any touch. He moved as if nothing bothered him, but then he always did, always putting on a brave face with that manic “I can do anything if I just continue ignoring my own mortality” grin of his. Stupid brainless wizard.

He stretched out again and she studied the wound. It started at the base of his lantern jaw beneath his ear and then stopped just above his left pectoral. The center of the wounds had been inflicted by something with sharp claws, and he’d probably just slapped some Neosporin on it after he got home, by the looks of things. She wiped him down with a damp washcloth and then cleaned each one. He squirmed here and there, but stayed put, though she could tell he was in considerable amounts of pain as she got to the deepest cut.

“You don’t need stitches, but I don’t like this one,” Murphy said softly, running her fingertip along the outer edge of the bruised skin. “Keep an eye on it. I mean that.”

He smiled faintly, turning those dark eyes up at her with a teasing light in them. “You sure there isn’t a little white dress in that closet somewhere? Ow!”

He rubbed his ear where she’d flicked it, and again her mouth threatened a smile. “Shut up and sit up, Harry.”

He obliged and she wrapped his chest to keep the bandages she’d carefully smoothed over the wounds in place.

“Thanks, Murph.”

“Don’t mention it,” she said, tossing the gauze in the kit.

“I mean it,” Harry said softly, and she couldn’t help glancing back at him. He scratched his hopelessly messy mop of hair, clearing his throat, his voice wavering slightly. “I know it can’t be easy, all these late nights and then having a day job to get to in the morning. I can count on you. Can’t say that about too many people. Thank you.”

Her feet hurt, she had a mostly ruined Cubs jacket to try to revive at the dry cleaner’s, her paperwork was a sodden sticky ruin, and her porch would need to be pressure washed…but one look at that sincere, almost shy smile and Murphy knew that all the hell she dealt with was worth it.

Probably, anyway.

“Men,” she said with a snort. “One vicious gun battle with giant monsters who animate lawn decorations and you get all emotional.”

He eyed her, retrieving his bowl of mostly melted ice cream. “You enjoy dropping all men into one category, don’t you? Gosh, you’re so sexist, Murphy.”

She kicked him in the shin and ate the last of hers. “Go home. I’ve got work to do.”

“Work? Murph, it’s almost five o’clock. Go to bed.”

“Can’t,” she said wearily, brandishing a hand at the files. “It’s got to be done before I go in at eight.”

Or she thought that was what she said, but a gigantic yawn interrupted the sentence halfway through, loosening all the syllables into borderline jibberish.

Harry frowned. “You’re the first one to tell me not to run on empty.”

“Bite me.”

“You’re so tired you wouldn’t be able to stop me if I did.”

She massaged the bridge of her nose. “I want you to imagine me making your left eye match the right one.”

“O-kay, to avoid said face-violence, what if I show you a little trick I learned? One that I promise I have not at all ever used for nefarious purposes?”

She sent him a suspicious look, but nodded. He took her pen and muttered something she couldn’t really distinguish, and then lowered his hand towards one of her reports. His hand moved smoothly across the signature line…and spelled out ‘Sgt. Karrin Murphy’ perfectly in her handwriting.

“How the hell did you figure that out? And why?” she sputtered, her eyes wide.

Harry coughed. “It wasn’t to forge your signature, I swear. Thomas got into some trouble last month and I needed a signature forged to get him out of a jam. So how ‘bout it? You grab some shut eye and I’ll finish these up for you.”

“It’s unethical.”

“Uh-huh.”

“These are confidential documents, Harry.”

“Uh-huh.”

“And I expect you to wake me up promptly at seven-thirty five.”

“Uh-huh.”

Murphy collapsed sideways and wrapped her arms around the nearest pillow. She was out within seconds, and thus didn’t feel Harry gently tug her legs across the couch and into his lap so she wouldn’t get a crick in her back as she slept. Though she did remember falling asleep to the scratch of the pen on the paper and Harry’s slightly off-key humming.

–

Murphy woke up in her own bed.

She sat up, scraping her hair off one side of her face, and peered at the clock on her nightstand. Huh. Must’ve been a power outage last night, because it said it was half-past noon. She checked her cell phone next.

It was half-past noon.

She ground her teeth. “I’m gonna _kill_ him.”

She called Rawlins immediately, pacing back and forth over the rug. He answered on the third ring, sounding surprised.

“Uh, hey, Murph. What’s up?”

“God, I am going to murder Harry. He was supposed to be my wake up call, but he bailed on me.”

“Bailed? Murph, he showed up to handle the case and told me you caught a bug last night when you were helping him with something. We wrapped up the murder half an hour ago. He turned in your paperwork too.”

She went still. “Um. What?”

Rawlins coughed. “I mean, if you want to come in today, have at it. I can go over the details of how Dresden helped us catch the creep and you can supervise the confession.”

“No, that’s…I’ll be in tonight for sure, but if he’s taken care of it, then that’s fine. Good work, by the way.”

“Yeah-huh. Get some sleep Sergeant. We’ll see ya.”

She hung up and stood in the middle of her room for a moment or two. Then she climbed back in bed, smiled, and promised herself that she’d kick Harry’s ass for tucking her in.

Good enough for one day.


	6. Movie Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry and Murphy at the movies. Set in 2010.

“Why does the popcorn have to be in _your_ lap?”

Harry glanced over at Murphy, pursing his lips. “Uh, so it can actually be reached?”

She frowned, crossing her arms and propping her legs up on the empty theater seats in front of them. It wasn’t rude, for once. They were the only ones in the whole theater, though ‘whole’ was an exaggeration—there were only about forty seats total. “Is that a short joke, Dresden?”

“Fine. So if I reach over there and grab something non-popcorn-y, you won’t shoot me?”

She eyed him. “Shut up and pass me a napkin.”

He grinned, handing her a couple as the overhead lights dimmed and the previews began. Harry’s legs were sadly too long to prop on the seats without blocking his view, but they had chosen the rear-most seats that had tons and tons of room for him to stretch out. He settled his head against the somewhat-ancient cushion, his dark eyes wandering around to make sure there weren’t any threats. No ghosts, no demons, no bloodthirsty vampires or fairie queens. Just him, and Murph, a bucket of popcorn, and two Cokes (one regular, one diet). Movie night. O most sacred and holy night, in his mind.

Plus, it was nothing short of a miracle that Murphy had stumbled across this place. It was a little hole-in-the-wall theater that had been built eons ago, and so everything was still run on good old fashioned projectors. Harry’s natural haywire didn’t work because the projector was so high above them that his chaos vicinity couldn’t reach it. Therefore, it afforded them the opportunity to get caught up on films they’d missed, either because they were busy saving people, killing monsters, or averting the apocalypse. Usually simultaneously.

They took turns reaching for the popcorn and making scathing comments about whatever lackluster comedy trailer that showed, or wondering the name of a certain actor who had popped up in a superhero flick.

“Y’know,” Harry said through a mouthful of butter and salt and crispy goodness. “I have to say if someone was gonna write about my life, I’d kind of want it to be called this.”

Murphy snorted as the title screen began to fade. “Kick Ass? More like Ass-Kicked. When isn’t someone beating the brakes off of you?”

He sniffed. “I resent that remark.”

“You resemble that remark.”

He held the popcorn bucket up. “I’m sorry, you seem to have enacted a height restriction to enjoy this popcorn.”

Murphy sent him an arch look. “I have, have I? Gee, what’s that sound? Is it the safety to my gun magically coming off?”

Harry barked out a laugh and lowered the bucket. “Geez, Murph. Aren’t you supposed to be an officer of the law?”

“It’s my day off,” she replied smoothly, smacking his hand away and grabbing another handful of popcorn. They both fell silent as the movie began and they were quickly sucked in, occasionally leaning in to mutter commentary to each other about Dave’s superhero shenanigans.

For the most part, they kept quiet, but one particular scene got a reaction out of Harry. It was sometime after Dave’s new girlfriend found out that he was Kick Ass and the movie cut to very fumbly, awkward sex behind the comic book shop. Harry’s head tilted to one side and Murphy snorted, glancing at him.

“Something bothering you, Dresden?”

“Huh?” he blinked, not realizing he’d done it.

Murphy pointed to the screen. “Not getting flashbacks, are you?”

Harry was suddenly glad they were in a dark room; his face started imitating a burning hot tomato. “No, I just…that looked like it was too awkward to be enjoyable.”

She shrugged. “Sex standing up tends to be like that.”

Harry choked on his Coke in mid-swallow. Murphy collapsed into laughter, bending over until her golden hair cascaded over her face.

“Hell’s bells, Murph! That was uncalled for!”

“W-Was worth it…just for that… _face!_ ” She dissolved into giggles while he scowled at her, cheeks flushed.

“I hope you’re happy. That mental image isn’t going anywhere anytime soon.”

She lay back in her seat, wiping her eyes. “Your problem, not mine, big fella.”

She scooted up a bit and then realized her neck fit perfectly in the groove of his arm. She sent him a sly look through half-lidded eyes. “Did you just do the Yawn-and-Reach on me?”

“The what?”

“You went to high school. You know what that is, Harry.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “I have long limbs. I get cramps if I don’t stretch out when I sit down for long periods of time.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Hey, you’re the one who asked me out on a date.”

Murphy sputtered for a moment. “It is absolutely _not_ a date.”

“I bought the tickets. We’re sitting in the back row. Sharing a bucket of popcorn. It’s totally a date, Murph.”

“Is it still a date if I shoot you?”

“Oh, well, then it’s a great date. Ow!” He rubbed his thigh where she’d pinched him. “I’m kidding, Murph. Watch the movie.”

She scowled a little, but she did prop her head against him, at the space between his shoulder and chest. Harry tried to keep his head level so that it wouldn’t drift towards hers, but it was difficult not to get lured into that comfortable warmth she emanated. He could faintly smell her shampoo—something light and fruity, much like her lip balm.

He felt her shift next to him, tilting her head up towards his ear. He bent towards her on instinct. “So do you bring all your dates to hyper-violent superhero satire films?”

Harry smirked, waggling his eyebrows. “Only the ones who keep me alive.”

She rolled her eyes. “You never did tell me much about your teenage years. Did you get to do the classics? Sneaking out of the bedroom window? Smoking a cigarette and then spraying a ton of freshener to hide it? Making out in the back of a movie theater and hoping you don’t get caught?”

Harry paused, thinking. “Yes. No. No, but does the back of a car at a drive-in theater count?”

Murphy tapped a finger against her chin. “I think you get extra points for that one. Nice work, Dresden. I underestimated you.”

He let out a dramatic sigh. “Well, what can I say? The ladies can’t keep their hands off me.”

“Pig.”

“Oink, oink. What about you, Lieutenant? Don’t tell me you were born an upstanding citizen with no wild child phase?”

Her blue eyes caught the light from the movie at just the right angle, and Harry’s heart bounced off his rib cage a couple times. Her smile was very sly, and her mouth was dangerously close. “Yes to two, no to one.”

Harry licked his lips, his voice a little softer and deeper than it should have been. “Which one?”

“Guess.”

“What do I get if I guess right?”

“Find out after you guess.”

“Mm. Sixteen year old Karrin Murphy, born and raised Catholic, wouldn’t dare smoke in the house, not with a mother as sharp as yours.”

Her smile stretched, blossoming into something deadly and beautiful. “Lucky guess.”

“Maybe. What did I win?”

“You get to take me to see _Iron Man 2_ in a few weeks.”

He started to reply, but she leaned in those last few precious inches and kissed him. Her hand took on a life of its own, cupping his jaw, sliding up towards his ear and disappearing into his hair, pulling him down to her mouth. He responded without hesitation, meeting her lips in gentle yet urgent surges, marveling at how unbelievably soft her lips were and how sweet she tasted.

He groaned in disappointment when she pulled away, but it was only momentary. Murphy shoved the arm of the seat up and climbed into Harry’s lap, her smile wicked.

“And one more thing…I’m buying next time.”

Harry had absolutely no complaints.

* * *

 

“So,” Thomas said, plopping down in the booth across from his brother. “How was the movie?”

Harry blinked, glancing up from his burger. “What movie?”

Thomas arched an eyebrow. “The one you saw with Murphy last night.”

“Oh.” He took a bite. “Ish fine.”

A slow smirk slid across the vampire’s mouth. “Uh-huh. So did the hickey on your neck get there before, during, or after the movie?”

Harry coughed as part of the ingested burger tried to flee down his wind pipe. “I told you, I got stung by a bee. It’s not a hickey!”

“Yeah. That’s totally why you’re blushing.”

“Dammit, Thomas!”

FIN


	7. The Shirt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A random rainstorm bears surprising fruit for Harry Dresden. Pre-Changes.

“I hate Chicago!”

“Shh! It can hear you!” I admonished as I shoved the heavy door to my apartment shut. The soaking wet, five-foot-nothing cop shot a hateful glare in my direction as I locked it and pulled the wards back up.

“I don’t give a shit. What’s with the random rainstorm?”

“I think you just answered your own question, Murph,” I said, biting back a chuckle as she swiped clumpy locks of blonde hair out of her face. I mumbled my usual spell and the candles flared to life, but it’d be a while before this place felt even a little bit hospitable to our freezing, drenched bodies.

“I’ll get a fire started,” I said, shedding my trench coat at the hat stand. Murphy trailed me into the den and watched me ignite it, dancing from foot to foot and shivering.

“Get me some dry clothes already, wouldja?”

“Fine, fine, I’ve got a robe somewhere.”

“That thing is huge, Harry. Just give me one of your t-shirts.”

I stopped in mid-stride to my bedroom. “Uh.”

“Uh-what?” she demanded.

“I don’t have anything Tyrion Lannister sized,” I said, trying to divert the attention away from her suggestion. “I think you’d be better off with my robe.”

“And trip over the hem every time I get up? No. A shirt is fine. It’ll be so big on me I won’t have to worry about pants.”

I cleared my throat. “Uh. Okay. Right. One second.”

I stumbled into my bedroom with a haggard sigh on my lips. When was the last time Murphy dated? Had it been that long? Wasn’t she married at some point? Didn’t she know some guys have a thing about girls wearing their clothes—specifically that it’s a bigger aphrodisiac than chocolate and raw oysters combined? Wait, that sounds disgusting. But judging by her crankiness, she had no clue that it was one of my biggest turn-ons. Find the un-sexiest shirt possible and maybe you’ll survive the night.

I managed to unearth one of those stupid novelty t-shirts that depicted a vegetarian zombie crying out for “GRAAAAAAAAAINS!” A past client gave it to me as a gag gift after I’d helped him clear up a nasty case of the dead folk wanting to munch on live takeout. It was a 3XL and would hide all her curves. Plus, I’d never worn it, so at the very least, she wouldn’t have my scent on her to make matters worse. Yeah, I could do this. Screw you, Neanderthal, I have horrible non-sexy t-shirts.

Murphy didn’t even take a second glance at the graphic on the shirt. She disappeared into my bathroom while I changed into dry clothes and wrapped my robe around me. She came out just as I reached for the robe belt. The light behind her illuminated her still-damp skin to a flushed pink and her hair to a brownish-golden hue like an angel’s halo. The shirt drooped over her entire form from her elbows down to her knees, but it was still cold enough that I could tell her bra didn’t have any padding. The Neanderthal inside me turned and gave me a haughty, mocking “Ugh-ugh!”

I quickly tied my robe in fear of my physical reaction to her state of undress and averted my eyes. “Want some coffee?”

She grinned, following me out of the bedroom. “I hope that was rhetorical.”

She curled up on my couch like a cat while I made the coffee, settling in with a volume of practical magic. She sometimes perused them just to be familiar with anything an average person could avoid from a supernatural nasty. Smart, in her line of work, and being friends with a guy who practically had the word “TROUBLE” etched into his forehead.

I brought the coffee over in a large mug for her, having already added her usual cream and sugar preferences, and sat as far away from her as the couch would permit. She sipped and sighed, tossing me an accusatory stare.

“Guess the lack of dryer means I’m stuck here for a while.”

I tossed her a lopsided grin. “Well, you could go home in that, if home was a strip club.”

Murphy rolled her eyes. “I doubt that many guys get their jimmies rustled by novelty t-shirts that are three sizes too big.”

“You’d be surprised,” I muttered from around the rim of my mug, cursing my perfect wizardly peripheral vision that granted me the sight of her long, smooth legs tucked beneath her pert backside. Hell’s bells, Harry, get a grip. It’s Murphy. Ass-kicking, Napoleon-complex-having, reasonable authority figure, best friend Karrin Murphy. She’s not a pinup girl. She’s not a Playboy bunny. She’s your friend.

And, damn it, she looks really fucking sexy in my t-shirt.

I buried my nose in the closest book to avoid looking at her, but every time she stretched or yawned or tucked a curling strand of hair behind her ear, my stomach churned the coffee inside it into a frappuccino. The Neanderthal cackled and danced around a bonfire. Asshole.

I jumped when I felt something small and cold dig into my arm, which I’d left limp on the cushion as I tried to get comfortable. Murphy’s bare toes. “Do you mind?”

She actually pouted at me. “What? I’m cold. My socks were wet too.”

Scowling, I grabbed her foot, shaking it. “Then ask me to go get you some socks.”

She wrinkled her nose. “What? And get wizard fungus? No thanks.”

I sniffed in offense. “I’ll have you know that I made quite a delicious stew out of the mushrooms I grew between my toes last week.”

She burst into laughter, snorting a couple times. I enjoyed the sound for as long as it lasted. “You are a sick man, Dresden.”

“Guilty as charged. Fine, no socks, then no complaints.” I tugged her feet into my lap and started massaging them. She quit giggling and sent me a suspicious look.

“You’re not getting ideas over there, are you?”

“When have I ever led you to believe there’s a brain under this mop?”

“Point taken.” I pinched her right calf before returning to the massage. Bit by bit, her skin warmed underneath my fingers. She kept reading, but I caught her sending me furtive glances every so often as if she was waiting for something. Which was probable, as I had a great talent for saying stupid things in quasi-domestic situations like this.

Of course, she solved the problem of me saying anything at all by scooting forward a bit so I could reach better, which shifted the hem of the shirt and gave me the full view of her legs from knee to inner thigh. I took a deep breath and focused. Hormones. Just hormones talking.

Except the heel of her right foot was dangerously close to my groin and she started moving it back and forth over my thigh bone.

I cleared my throat. She didn’t stop, nor did she acknowledge the sound. Both her feet were as warm as the rest of her, so we were both dancing around the fact that we were touching each other just for the hell of it now. I had no clue how to digest that little fact-nugget.

“Murph,” I said quietly, adding a questioning lilt to her name.

“You catch on pretty slow, you know,” she said without looking up.

I rested my hands on her ankles, resisting the urge to slide them higher towards more interesting parts. “Huh?”

She finally looked up at me. The slyness in those blue eyes made a whole host of un-gentlemanly thoughts creep into my brain. “Do you really think I wouldn’t have preferred the robe? I wanted to see how long you’d keep this up for.”

I licked my lips. “Keep what up?”

“The fact that you think I look really, really good in your shirt.”

Oh. Oh, my. Say something. Now. “Uh.” Yes, Harry, nailed it.

She laughed and shook her head, a coy sound that caressed my ears like silk. Hell’s bells. Karrin Murphy just seduced me. _Me_. For crying out loud. “I admit I didn’t expect the foot massage, though. Added bonus.”

“Murph, you’ve had more experience in this area, so I’m going to just go for it: what the hell are you up to?”

She closed the book and set it on my coffee table. She tugged her legs out of my lap and crawled towards me. “What the hell do you think I’m up to, Harry?”

I shifted towards her without thinking as she lifted onto my lap, her firm, toned legs on either side of my hips, settling there as if she’d always belonged. My brain started falling apart in sopping wet chunks that threatened to slide out of my ears. “I, uh, I thought we sort of touched on the fact that this might be a bad idea. For our friendship.”

She wrapped her arms around my neck. “A very valid point. But I have a counterpoint.”

“Please share it with the class,” I managed to squeeze out.

Her expression softened. The teasing left it considerate in the candlelight.  “As scared as I am of going outside the boundaries of our friendship…I know enough about myself that I’d rather take the risk than look back and wonder what we might have been. Maybe we’re not ready. Maybe we never will be. And maybe I shouldn’t sit on my ass forever waiting to see if there’s ever a right time to test it out. The world spins on. It doesn’t care about our best laid plans. So maybe the ‘best’ plan either one of us is ever going to have to is to try anyway.”

I swallowed hard, trying to piece my soggy, lust-soaked brain back together enough to form words. “Murphy, I…you have no idea the ways in which I’d love to ‘try’ you right now, but I’ve already screwed up your life enough. I can’t ask you to put yourself in that position—”

She kissed me halfway through the speech I had prepared long ago, sometime between meeting her and realizing she was the best damn thing that ever happened to my stupid self in the last ten years. Her lips were soft and warm and plump and tasted better than anything.

“Harry,” she breathed after over a minute of deliciously intense kissing. “I’m already there. You owe me your life a thousand times over. Now shut up and make it worth my while.”

I wound my arms around her then, smiling a little as I tugged her down to meet me. “Yes, ma’am.”

Thank God for random Chicago rainstorms. 


	8. Movie Night II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's movie night and Harry knows just what to take his former-cop girlfriend to go see this summer. Post-relationship. Same continuity as Movie Night Part I.

“Question.”

“Yes?”

“How come we have two cups and not one?”

Karrin Murphy lifted an eyebrow at the man sitting next to her. “Because someone takes wizard-sized gulps and finishes his drink before the movie even starts.”

“Ah. Was afraid you were scared of my wizard cooties,” Harry Dresden replied, lifting the Coke up to his mouth for said wizard-sized gulping.

“Don’t worry,” Murphy said mildly, digging one hand into the huge popcorn bucket in her lap. “I’ve had my immunizations already.”

“Low blow, Murph,” he said, pouting.

“Suck it up, Dresden.” She grinned and popped a piece into his mouth. He leaned in slightly, licking her fingertips clean, and Murphy’s heart bounced off her ribs momentarily. She sent him a wary look as she noticed the playful glint in his dark eyes and he responded by waggling his eyebrows slightly. She rolled her eyes, hiding a smile, and faced forward as the movie screen glowed and the Disney castle faded into view.

“How many times have you seen this movie?” Murphy asked.

“This’ll be the third time. First time with Maggie, second time with Molly and Butters.”

“Wow. Only movie I’ve seen you watch multiple times in theaters is The Force Awakens.”

“Can you blame me? It was incredible.”

“Point taken, but I never thought a movie about talking animals would get you to pay today’s ticket prices more than once.”

Harry offered a secretive smirk as he reached for a handful of popcorn himself. “You’ll see why soon enough, trust me.”

_108 minutes later…_

“I know what you’re going to say. Don’t say it.”

Harry had been suppressing a shit-eating grin, the kind that would make a dung-beetle jealous, for the last few minutes of the film, but it spread across his mouth before he could stop it. “Why, Murphy, what _ever_ do you mean?”

She crossed her arms and glared at him. “I’d ask if you think you’re funny, but we both know you think you’re hilarious.”

“Underappreciated and hilarious,” he corrected. “But tell me you don’t see the resemblance.”

Murphy sank down in her seat, her cheeks reddening. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, come on.”

“I don’t like being compared to a bunny, Harry.”

“An awesome bunny!” he protested, gesturing at the screen as the credits continued rolling. “Think about it. She was highly competent, top of her class, had excellent reflexes, had a good heart and cared about making the world a safer place, and was assigned to something because of her status and yet proved her worth a thousand times over to the powers-that-be. You’re going to let a little thing like a cotton tail and floppy ears take away from it?”

Murphy pursed her lips. “Well, we have one thing in common, at least. I hate being called cute.”

“No one would dare to call you cute, Murph.” He paused. “I mean, parts of you are cute, but as a whole, cute isn’t the word I’d use off-hand.”

Murphy’s cheeks darkened several shades. “I am not cute, nor is any part of me cute.”

“I’d beg to differ.” He leaned down suddenly and she jumped as his nose brushed the shell of her ear, and then she felt the warmth and rough texture of his chin as it grazed the point between her jaw and neck. He kissed the spot slowly and then slipped her ear lobe into his mouth, sucking so gently that it made her shiver.

“I think your earlobes are adorable,” he purred, lowering his mouth enough to kiss another inch of skin. Goosebumps—the very, _very_ good kind—sprang up on her overheated skin and Murphy’s eyelids threatened to flutter shut as desire pooled in her belly and spread outward. She covertly glanced over the small theater, and it was still the same as when they’d come in—completely empty except for the two of them, which was the main appeal. Harry’s disaster radius didn’t seem to affect this particular old-fashioned theater since it had a rather sturdy projector several yards above them protected by a booth. And then there was the fact that she could still remember the last time they were here, on the back row, making out like a couple of hormonal teenagers. It had been the first time she got to second base with him, and that didn’t seem like a bad idea at the moment for some reason.

“Adorable’s not any better, you know,” she said, pretending to play it cool while he continued lavishing her throat with soft, slow kisses.

“Well, I could come up with a few other descriptors to get back into your good graces if you want.” He nipped the spot between her neck and shoulder and Murphy had to grip the arm rest to keep from moaning aloud. She’d set the empty popcorn bucket and drink aside a while ago, and so there were no obstacles as she effortlessly slid into his lap. There was just enough light left from the end credits to see his pupils dilate and the eager, borderline lascivious grin sneak across his lips as his large hands settled over her waist.

“Doubtful,” Murphy said, looping her arms around his neck. “But go ahead and try.”

She gasped as he slid his fingertips underneath the t-shirt, trailing them along the small of her back and up over her sides. He punctuated each adjective with a short, but sensual kiss. “Gorgeous. Luscious. Tantalizing. Stunning. Alluring. Exquisite. Am I getting any warmer?”

She smirked down at him. “Someone’s been reading their Word-a-Day calendar.”

“Indubitably.”

She laughed. “Alright, maybe I’m starting to see your point, since I have a frustrating, cynical, smartass troublemaker who follows me around just to annoy me.”

She leaned down towards his ear. “And for the record, I’m not wearing a bunny costume for you tonight.”

“Oh, come on! That’s just not fair.”

“Wasn’t born yesterday. I figured you had that in mind when you brought me here. You’ll just have to find some way to live with it.”

She kissed him again, and he sighed wistfully when she drew away. “Clever Murphy.”

“Dumb Dresden.”

Harry grinned. “You know you love me.”

She pretended to think about it. “Do I know that? Yes. Yes, I do.”

FIN


	9. Wedding Traditions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry and Murphy suffer through one of the most embarrassing wedding traditions, but maybe it's not all bad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Randomly got inspired by a cute HoriKashi fanart on Tumblr. It's been too long without more garbage-y nonsense about my dumb OTP. Pre-Changes, but post-Blood Rites.

“How did this happen?” Karrin Murphy asked glumly, glaring down at the bouquet in her hands.

“I learned to stop asking that question a long time ago,” Harry replied in a cool voice, though he nervously stretched the frilly garter belt between his long fingers to keep himself busy.

“I didn’t even reach for the damn thing,” she growled. “She threw it at me. Reflexes kicked in. I demand a redo.”

“I don’t think that’s going to work,” he mused. “Better go with the flow. The faster we get it over with, the faster we can leave.”

“You do realize I can hear you,” Lisa said, her arms crossed, her heeled foot tapping as she waited for the photographer to finish setting up the shot.

“Yes,” Murphy answered. “And no, we don’t care.”

Lisa rolled her eyes. “Stop being such a sourpuss for once, Karrie. You could stand to have a little fun.”

Murphy forced on a grin. Harry was pretty sure he’d read somewhere that certain predators only bared their teeth at something they wanted to devour. “You don’t want to know what my concept of ‘fun’ would dictate right now.”

“Children,” Marion Murphy said in a mild voice. “Behave.”

“Mama Murphy’s right,” Harry said. “At least let me step out of the frame if you’re going to have a cat fight. Wouldn’t want to ruin that.”

All three Murphy women aimed the exact same glare at him. He chuckled and shook his head. “Wow, that’s uncanny. Ready?”

“Yep,” said the photographer. “On one knee, fella.”

Harry coughed as a blush spread across his cheeks. “Phrasing.”

The photographer merely winked. He sighed and knelt in front of Murphy, quirking an eyebrow upward. “Promise not to punch me?”

She pursed her lips. “Just this once.”

He cleared his throat as she offered one creamy, supple, perfectly toned bare leg to him and lifted her foot, sliding the garter over it and up her lean calf. She very pointedly didn’t look at him and ignored the titters from the large crowd gathered around them. Harry had pushed it up by her knee when Lisa spoke rather loudly, and with plenty of tartness.

“Ah, ah, ah. Tradition dictates that it has to go on the way it came off.”

Harry’s face promptly turned tomato-red. “Not on a first date, precious.”

Several guffaws sounded around them. Lisa narrowed her eyes. “My wedding, my rules.”

“Lisa, give him a break,” Murphy shot back, though her cheeks were awfully pink.

Her younger sister forced a dramatic, disappointed sigh. “Looks like once again someone’s not up to the challenge. What a surprise.”

Harry scowled at her then and started to retort, but got distracted as Murphy lifted her leg onto his outstretched knee and pulled her dress up to just above the top of her thigh. She stared straight at her sister over his head and very calmly said, “Harry?”

It took every ounce of will power in Harry Dresden’s entire body not to look directly in front of him. Instead he zeroed in on the more decent part of her leg and ignored the way it felt like his cheeks had caught fire and his head followed suit shortly thereafter. “Whatever you say, Murphy.”

He caught the edge of the lace with his teeth and dragged it up the smooth, curved line of Murphy’s bare leg, one hand holding her calf steady. He fought down a groan as he could just barely smell the sweet scent of her lotion mixed with the perfume she wore, as well as the shudder-inducing sensation of his cheek brushing the soft skin of her inner thigh. His nose brushed the hem of the dress as he brought the garter up to where it would normally be worn, and he stopped, letting go. And, just for the hell of it, pressed one small, slow kiss against the spot next to it. 

The crowd went wild. Lisa seethed. Marion Murphy hid a smile behind her hand. 

Murphy had held her sister’s gaze the entire time, but Harry had most certainly felt her sway under his hand after the kiss, and that was reward enough for what they’d just endured. He stood back up and held out his hands, doing a bad Russell Crowe impersonation.

“Are you not entertained?”

The guests roared with laughter and cheering before Lisa demanded that everyone return to the seating area. They scattered and Harry breathed a sigh of relief, running a hand through his hair.

“God. Wedding traditions. This is why I’m a hermit crab.”

“I don’t know, Dresden,” she said quietly, her blue eyes sparkling and her lips threatening a smile. “You’re not half bad at it.”

She left him standing there, open-mouthed, as she glided back towards their assigned seats at the table. 

FIN


	10. Shiny

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry, Thomas, and Maggie should never be allowed to watch Disney movies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I HAD A SHITEATING GRIN ON MY FACE THE WHOLE TIME I WROTE THIS SORRRRRY NOT SORRY.
> 
> Ahem. I got the idea from the following Tumblr post: http://minaminokyoko.tumblr.com/post/158556927573/imagine-your-otp and I just couldn't freaking resist. It was too cute to picture it in my head, so I figured I'd share the silliness.
> 
> Obviously since Peace Talks isn't out (*glares at Jim Butcher, slowly sharpens a large knife*) I have no idea what these three would be doing in November/December 2016, but let's just pretend everything is okay and they get to do dumb family things together without complications.
> 
> Enjoy. I certainly did while I was writing this goofy mess.

Karrin Murphy valued her quiet Sundays, mostly because she almost never got them.

Too many things in her life needed attention, from grumpy wizards that couldn’t go an hour without receiving a death threat to lending a hand to babysit said grumpy wizard’s lovely daughter whenever the occasion called for it, like now. Harry and Maggie had spent the night, and Uncle Thomas stopped by for breakfast. All three had gone outside to play in the snow, leaving her alone with her coffee and the paper on her favorite recliner.

Or so she thought.

Murphy heard an ominous thump from the direction of the kitchen and figured one of the boys had come in. She’d tuned out the whole world during her reading, after all.

However, when she glanced up from the newspaper, her jaw dropped.

Thomas stood there completely covered in various colored pearls and a little Burger King crown, preening as if he were the most handsome man in the world.

“Thomas, what the f—”

“Well, Tamatoa hasn’t always been this glaaaaam…”

Murphy shut her eyes. “Oh no. Don’t. Don’t do it, Thomas.”

He struck a pose, spreading the beads through his pale hands. _“I was a drab little crab once! Now I know I can be happy as a clam, because I’m beauuuutiful, baby!”_

Murphy’s head sunk down into her knees. “No, no, noooooo, not again!”

 _“Did your granny say ‘listen to your heart’, ‘be who you are on the insiiiiide?’_  
_I need three words to tear her argument apart: your granny lied!”_

Maggie appeared to his left, her mop of curls down around her instead of behind her headband, wearing a cute little pink skirt and a white shirt with the Moana necklace Harry had bought her a week ago. Thomas scooped her up in his arms and grinned menacingly, completely ignoring how Murphy was bashing her head against her kneecaps in exasperation.

 _“I’d rather be shiny!_  
_Like a treasure from a sunken pirate wreck!_  
_Scrub the deck and make it look_  
_SHINY!_  
_I will sparkle like a wealthy woman’s neck_  
_Just a sec_  
_Doncha know?”_

Thomas spun his niece around while she giggled madly, completely throwing off the scene the two were trying to recreate, but of course the vampire didn’t mind.

 _“Fish are dumb, dumb, dumb_  
_They chase anything that glitters_  
_Beginners!_  
_Oh! And here they come, come, come to the brightest thing that glitters_  
_Mm, fish dinners_  
_I just love free food!”_

He hung the little girl upside down, pretending to lean down to bite her. “You look like seafood!”

Then, Harry Dresden, wizard, the Winter Knight of Mab, and Warden of the White Council, walked in wearing his usual jeans but with a fake grass skirt over them.

“Hey, crabcake!”

He lifted one of his new staffs at Thomas, though of course there was zero magic coursing through it. “I’m back. It’s Maui Time!”

He pretended to fumble and drop the staff, causing a serpentine smile to crawl cross Thomas’ face.

 _“Well, well, well_  
_Little Maui’s having trouble with his look_  
_Ya little semi-demi-mini-god!_  
_Ouch, what a terrible performance_  
_Get the hook! Get it?_  
_Ya don’t swing it like you used to, man!”_

Thomas tossed the grinning Maggie under his arm and faked a punch, which sent Harry to the floor in exaggerated movements that made his daughter’s giggling progress into full-on laughter.

 _“Yet I have to give you credit for my start_  
_And your tattoos on the outside_  
_For just like you, I made myself a work of art_  
_I’ll never hide_  
_I can’t!_  
_I’m too shiny!”_

Thomas offered his brother a hand up and they both put Maggie up on their shoulders, and all three of them finished the rest of the song while Murphy stared straight-faced at the people she had voluntarily chosen to call her family for some unknown reason.

 _“You’ll never be quite as shiny!_  
_You wish you were nice and shiiiiiiiiiny!”_

All three of them stood there, out of breath and beaming at the former cop. Murphy readjusted her newspaper back up to her face.

“I am never taking you three to another Disney movie for as long as I live.”

FIN

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come on. We all know Thomas would be ALL ABOUT Tamatoa after he saw Moana. Don't even front. 
> 
> Also, if you want to experience this perfect villain song for yourself, go here: https://youtu.be/93lrosBEW-Q
> 
> "You'll never be quite as SHIIIIINYYYY  
> You wish you were nice and SHIIIIINYYYYYYYYY!"


	11. Moonlight and Meddling Vampires

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The plan was set. Thomas Raith was going to get Harry Dresden and Karrin Murphy to prom one way or another. Dresden Files high school AU, but bite-sized.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I actually generally dislike high school AUs because they are overused and often reduce really cool characters into a boring, cookie-cutter handful of cliches, but I decided to make an exception in the interest of exploring tiny, baby Harry and Murphy ideas. I got this idea while chatting with a friend about the conversation we never got to see of Thomas and Murphy talking about Harry that one time she drove Thomas home. Don't expect a continuation or any more details, since this is just a spur of the moment AU. I just wanted to put our dumb OTP in this context and see what happened. I hope you like it. Lie to me if you don't.
> 
> Also, this is set in modern times rather than in the 80's when Harry would have actually have grown up because...why not?

“You should go for it.”

“No.”

“You really should.”

“Thomas, I swear to God, I will push you out of this tree.”

“God, you’re such a wimp sometimes,” the seventeen-year-old Thomas Raith said with his usual easy, carefree, “I’m a vampire so everything naturally works out for me at this age except for sometimes I gotta eat people’s souls” smirk. Or that’s at least how the sixteen-year-old Harry Dresden defined that smirk. It wasn’t easy growing up with a brother who could knock a Victoria’s Secret cover model on her ass with one look. It made it infinitely harder to talk about girls, not that Harry wanted to that often, and especially not about the one they were currently discussing, much to his annoyance.

“I’m not a wimp,” Harry shot back with a glare, pausing the whittling process of his pocket knife. “You’re mental. Imagining things. Delusional, even.”

“Really?” Thomas said, crossing his arms and leaning his back more securely against the tree trunk. “So I’m just imagining the fact that Murphy’s here every afternoon to tutor you, she fits in great with Mom and Pop, she’s somehow not put off by what a huge dork you are, she actually laughs at your jokes for real, and to top it all off, she’s absolutely adorable without even trying?”

“She’s my best friend. They’re like that. You’d know if you had one.”

Thomas touched his unfairly muscled chest. “I’m offended, little brother. Aren’t I your best friend?”

Harry rolled his eyes. “Bite me.”

He paused. “Actually, no, don’t.”

Thomas laughed. “At least you caught it before I did. My point still stands. What? Are you worried she’d say no?”

“Goddammit, Thomas, she hasn’t once mentioned that she ever wanted to go to prom in the first place. If she wanted to go at all, she’d have said something by now.”

“Has it ever occurred to you that maybe she’s waiting for you to ask her?”

“No,” Harry scowled. “Because that would be stupid. We’re just friends.”

Thomas rubbed his sinuses. “I can’t tell if you’re naïve, stubborn, or just in denial right now.”

“And you’re just meddling like you always do,” Harry snapped, blowing a few bits of wood filings off of his soon-to-be blasting rod. “Forget it. Just drop it, man.”

He went back to carefully carving runes and sigils into the wood, frowning in concentration, but more than that, at what thoughts snuck into his head after his older brother’s needling. He hadn’t been wrong, after all. Murphy was an all-star track and field runner and was only one stone’s throw away from being a black belt in her junior aikido class. She was valedictorian, for God’s sake. There was no way in hell she’d ever step foot in some dumb gymnasium full of horny teenagers listening to bad synth music and looking for an excuse to get felt up. Neither would he.

She was Murphy. His best friend. His Murphy.

Harry frowned harder. Wait, where did that come from?

“Dinner’s ready!” Margaret Dresden’s melodic voice floated up from the sliding glass door of the backyard.

“Sweet!” Thomas said, pitching his body to one side. He appeared to fall straight out of the tree, as if he was going to smash into the ground like Wile E. Coyote, but at the last possible second, his lean legs stuck the landing like a cat. Harry rolled his eyes again, tucked the rod in the oversized pocket of his jeans, and lowered himself to the grass like a normal person.

“Mom,” Thomas said, gliding into the kitchen and giving her a loving smooch on the cheek. “Do you think Harry should ask Murphy to prom?”

“Thomas!” Harry snarled.

“Whaaaat? She’s the only person whose advice you’ll actually take,” Thomas said, taking the plates down from the cabinet.

Margaret Dresden blinked between the two teenaged boys as she sliced the roast beef. “I wasn’t aware that prom was even on the way. Do I need to get a tux rental set up for you, honey?”

“No,” Harry said, exasperated. “He’s just being…him. I’m not asking Murphy. I’m not going. The decision is final.”

“Well,” Margaret said gently, carefully placing a few slices on the plates Thomas provided. “Just to play the Devil’s advocate…”

“Mooooom,” Harry groaned, tipping his head back in the kitchen chair. “Don’t take his side. You always take his side.”

“Cause I’m always right,” Thomas grinned, stealing a cooked carrot from the roast pan. Margaret smacked him on the back of the hand with her spatula.

“Hands off. Go sit.”

He saluted her and she came over with the plates for her sons. “It would be a nice opportunity for you to get out a little more and be social. Not that there’s anything wrong with your current hobbies. You’ve been working hard on your spells and I think it would be nice for you to relax and have some fun.”

“I do plenty of that already,” Harry grumbled, waiting for her to sit before tucking in. “Besides, I can’t even dance.”

“That’s the easiest part,” Thomas supplied. “Even though, to be fair, you’re almost a foot taller than her.”

“Drop it.”

“Alright, Grumpy, I’ll drop it.” Thomas stuck a hand in his pocket and withdrew his cell phone. He scrolled through his contacts, found the contact entitled “My Brother’s Girlfriend” and sent her a quick text.

_Hey. Up for some hoops tomorrow after school?_

About a minute later, his phone buzzed and chimed with a response.

_Hell yeah, pretty boy. It’s been a while since I kicked your ass and I could use the ego boost._

Thomas grinned around a mouthful of broccoli. _Whatever you say, short stuff. Bring a tissue. I’m gonna make you cry like the tiny little girl you are._

_You wish, Dracula._

The plan was set. Thomas Raith was going to get Harry Dresden and Karrin Murphy to prom one way or another.

-

“So,” Karrin Murphy said, tying her golden blonde hair up into a short, high ponytail. “What’s the game?”

“Horse,” Thomas said, mirroring her with his own long, silky black hair.

“Winner gets bragging rights?”

Thomas shrugged. “Eh. Let’s say the stakes are TBD for now.”

Karrin eyed him. “Oh, great. You’re up to something, aren’t you?”

He held up his hands. “Alright, fine, yeah. I just want to toss an idea your way, that’s all.”

She stared at him a bit longer. “Not about—”

“Oh, relax,” he said, rolling his eyes. “Not like that. No offense, but you’re not my type, squirt.”

Murphy launched the basketball at his chest, hard enough that he made a little “oof” when he caught it. “Gee, I’m so relieved.”

“Aw, don’t be like that,” Thomas said, bouncing it back so she could make her first shot. “I’m happily taken. I meant that I don’t browse around, not that I wouldn’t be interested, okay, cupcake?”

“Cupcake this,” she said, nailing a perfect three-pointer.

Thomas whistled and caught the ball after it hit the concrete. “Nice one. Anyway, how’s this: for every shot I make, you answer a question. Deal?”

Murphy pursed her lips, but nodded. “Deal.”

She moved aside as Thomas took the shot from where she’d been standing. Swish!

“First question,” Thomas said, dribbling a bit after he retrieved the ball. “Are you dating anybody right now?”

“Nope. Why?”

Thomas smiled. “I’ll get to that momentarily.”

“The suspense is killing me,” she said flatly, turning around and making the same shot without looking. Swish!

Thomas took her spot and did the same, but missed. “Damn. Gotta grow eyes in the back of my head like you someday.”

“That’ll definitely improve your looks,” she teased, to which he glared. She went for a bank shot this time, but missed.

Thomas dribbled thoughtfully for a moment and then performed a perfect slam dunk. Karrin scowled deeply at him as she peered up at the hoop from her height at five-foot-nothing.

“I thought we established a ‘no dunking’ policy last time.”

“We didn’t renew the policy, so it expired,” he said, handing her the ball and batting his eyelashes.

She groaned and went for it, but predictably fell short, earning her own H. She tossed him the ball with a sour look. “Jerk.”

“Second question,” he said cheerfully. “Has anyone asked you to prom yet?”

“Jared did,” she replied, watching him throw a layup and make it. “I said no.”

She mimicked him and made it this time. She did a free throw from the right side. Thomas made it.

“What did you tell him?”

“Not really interested. I’d have to get all dolled up and that’s my little sister’s department, and I’d rather shoot myself than be at her mercy. She’d turn me into her own personal Barbie doll.”

Thomas mulled the thought over before making another shot, but it was an air-ball, so the turn went back to Murphy. She nailed a hook shot next, which he missed, earning himself another letter. She went for a harder bankshot this time and made it, but so did he.

“Is that the only reason you said no? Just don’t want to be bothered?”

She shrugged. “Guess so. I don’t really care either way.”

“Alright, last question and I’ll lay off about your love life.”

“Thank God.”

He bared his teeth in a grin, walked about twenty feet away from the hoop, and launched the ball. Murphy gawked, partially in anger and partially in awe, as the ball went in.

“You lousy cheat,” she seethed, catching the ball. “No powers.”

“Oh, no, cupcake, that wasn’t me using vampire powers,” he said smugly, pretending to blow on his nails. “That was pure skill.”

“Bullshit.”

“Oh yeah?” He fiddled with his cell phone and pulled up a professional athlete—notably a non-supernatural one—making the same shot. Karrin’s face fell in disappointment. She took his spot, grumbling curse words about him under her breath, to his massive amusement, and went for it. Again, predictably, she missed.

“God, I hate you.”

“You love me,” Thomas said, retrieving the ball. He returned to stand in front of her, not quite smiling this time, but rather looking thoughtfully down at her.

“Would you go to prom if Harry asked you?”

Murphy’s blue eyes went wide. “Uh.”

“That’s not an answer, Murph.”

“Why, uh, would you care about that?”

“Also not an answer, Murph.”

“I…” She broke off eye contact. “Don’t know. I mean, it’s not like it changes why I don’t want to go, but at least I’d have better company.”

She then frowned and looked back at him sharply. “Did he put you up to this?”

“Don’t be shitty, Karrin,” Thomas said. “You know good and well he didn’t. This is me asking.”

“Oh.” She nibbled her bottom lip. “I mean, I’d take it into consideration. If he really wanted to go. I think he’d hate going by himself, especially since Susan might be there with her new guy.”

“Yeah,” Thomas agreed, wincing. “It was a nasty breakup. But that’s my whole point, really. He hasn’t put himself out there since they went out and it’s been months. I think it would be good for him. He can’t just hide in the house forever. Plus, another year and I’ll be gone. Can’t look out for him as much if I’m not there.”

He nudged her with his shoulder. “But I know you’ll always have his back. And I think it would be good for both of you, honestly. So maybe you’ll think about it?”

She stared up at him challengingly. “Beat me and I’ll think about it.”

Thomas chuckled. “God, girl, you are ridiculous. There’s less testosterone in an NBA locker room.”

“Shoot the ball, Fangface.”

-

The next afternoon, Harry sat at the dining room table, chewing a pen cap and scowling at his Latin homework until he heard the front door open and close and the cheerful voice of his best friend calling out to greet Mrs. Dresden. He tried his best not to smile as the little blonde came around the corner, but it happened anyway. He was glad to see her, and not just because of the homework. He could tell she’d been home and showered after track and field practice—her skin was flushed and she smelled like strawberry shampoo and body wash.

“God, so glad you’re here,” Harry said with a sigh. “This Latin homework’s kicking my ass.”

“Kicking your what?” Margaret said frostily from her office.

“Butt,” Harry called back, rolling his eyes. Murphy stifled a giggle, dropping her book bag beside him and taking a seat.

“How far have you gotten?”

“From last time? Like two questions. Why can’t I just use Google Translate like a normal person?”

“Because Google Translate speaks Latin about as well as Tommy Wiseau speaks English.”

“Ah. Point taken. Well, educate me.”

They tackled the homework assignment in a little over an hour and Murphy stayed for dinner, like she usually did when her dad was making his routes and wouldn’t be home to cook. Her mother had split custody, meaning Murphy always had home-cooked meals every other week. She never let it show that it bothered her, but Harry knew otherwise.

After dinner, they retired to Harry’s room to play some video games before she’d be heading home. Harry was dreadful at fighting games, which Murphy loved, but he could play an RPG until the cows came home, whether alone or on a party with Butters and the other geeky guys he knew from school.

“So,” Murphy said, her tone deceptively neutral. “Are you gonna go to prom?”

Harry spit out his Mountain Dew. Murphy rolled her bottom lip inward to hide a smile. Harry coughed up the soda, wiped his mouth, and sent her a nervous, bewildered look.

“What? Why?”

“Just curious.”

“I-I hadn’t planned on it, no,” he said, picking up the controller again.

“Gotcha.”

He tossed a couple of furtive glances over at her. “Are you gonna go?”

Murphy shrugged. “My mom was asking about it. Told her I’d only go if you were gonna go. That way I wouldn’t bored all night long.”

Harry felt a blush creeping over his cheeks. “Oh. Right.”

They kept playing. After a while, Harry switched to Halo 5 and they joined an online co-op game for a bit before Harry realized it was getting late. As always, he walked her home.

She was walking up the steps to her father’s apartment when Harry finally coughed out one more thing. “I-I mean, if you wanted to go, I wouldn’t…y’know…mind taking you.”

Murphy faced him, her cheeks the tiniest bit pink, chewing her bottom lip. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. I mean, as long as you don’t mind that I can’t really dance and I’m pretty sure I’ll look stupid in a tuxedo.”

She grinned and rolled her eyes. “Shut up. I’ve seen you in a suit. You clean up nice.”

Harry’s blush extended up towards his hairline. “Right. So…do you wanna…go?”

She smiled, and in the pale light of a single bulb on a lamp post nearby, it was possibly the most beautiful thing Harry had ever laid eyes on. “Yeah. I’d like that.”

“Okay, um, I’ll…rent a tux, then. See about getting a limo. I think Thomas is getting one and we can bum a ride with him, if you don’t mind.”

“I don’t mind.” She hesitated, but then walked down the steps and kissed him on the cheek, grinning shyly up at the stunned look on his face.

“Night, Harry.”

“Night,” he mumbled, eyes wide, as he watched her disappear into the apartment. He didn’t really remember the walk home, but it almost felt like he floated all the way back, light as a feather.

-

“Can’t believe I’m doing this,” Harry groaned to himself, attempting to tame his unruly hair with a comb in the mirror. He’d applied a small amount of oil, but it was tough to get his cowlick to obey him. It was almost like he had sentient antennas. “What the hell is wrong with me?”

“You’re thinking too much,” Thomas called cheerfully through the bathroom door over the sound of AC/DC blasting in his room. “Come on out, lover boy. Let’s get a look at you.”

“I hate you. I’m gonna bury you in a coffin in the backyard after we get back.”

“Sounds swell. Out of the bathroom, slick.”

Harry heaved a sigh, slapped some cologne on, and shuffled into his brother’s adjacent room. He brandished his hands. “I’m wearing the monkey suit. Happy?”

Thomas rolled his eyes as he finished polishing his shoes and then slipped them on. “Drama queen. You look great, man.”

“Not since I’ll be standing next to you,” Harry grumbled, crossing his arms.

“You’re on drugs, bro,” Thomas said, walking over and wrapping an arm around his shoulders. “You know who you need to look good for tonight?”

“No.”

“Just Murph. That’s it.”

Harry turned several shades of red and Thomas laughed. He stood in front of his little brother and took him by the shoulders, softening the grin. “Look, I’m only teasing. Trust me, if you just stay out of your own head for once, you’re gonna have a good time. Alright? Do you trust me?”

“I’d trust Hannibal Lecter first.”

“You can’t. I ate his liver with fava beans and a nice… _Chianti_.”

Harry laughed in spite of himself. Thomas smiled wider. “There we go, a smile. Now let’s go wait on our lady friends to make their grand entrance.”

“Yes,” Harry sighed, adjusting his bowtie as Thomas opened the door. “Let’s get this over with.”

They went downstairs and found that Justine had already arrived, looking elegant in all-white with her long ash-colored hair in a French knot. Thomas’ eyes lit up, but he pretended to play it cool as he gave her a hug and kissed her gloved hand.

“Oh my God, Harry!” Justine said, squeezing him in a hug. “You look so handsome! Why don’t you always wear a suit?”

“Because I’m not the Penguin,” he said, but he couldn’t help a dopey smile at the compliment from an insanely pretty older girl. “Also, this tux cost like two-hundred-bucks and I’m not made of money.”

“My brother, ladies and gentleman,” Thomas sighed. “Ruiner of compliments.”

“Thanks, I try.”

The doorbell rang. Harry went for it, but Thomas beat him there. “Ah, ah. It’s the grand reveal. Allow me. Drumroll please, Justine.”

Justine giggled and drummed her hands on the table in the foyer as Thomas opened the door to reveal Murphy.

Harry’s jaw unhinged from his head and rolled across the hardwood floor.

Her blonde hair was down and softly curled at the edges. She had very light makeup that consisted of silvery eye-shadow, a touch of blush, and lipstick only a shade darker than her actual lip color. Her strapless dress was pale blue, like moonlight, and had a stylish sash around her waist that brought out the curve of her hips. It was long and had a slight train to it, but still managed to look simple and pretty. She had little pearl studs and a matching necklace as well as a white stole around her shoulders.

And she blushed intensely as she saw the look on Harry’s face.

“Um, hey guys,” she said in an unnaturally meek voice as Thomas invited her in. “Sorry I’m late. My mom took a thousand pictures before I left.”

“I’m sorry, who are you?” Thomas said, eying her from head to toe. “This vision of loveliness can’t be the hyper-competitive Karrin Murphy I know and love.”

Murphy rolled her eyes. “Sure, it’s me. Lean down a little and I’ll kick you to prove it.”

He grinned and gave her a hug. “Nevermind. There she is. You look amazing, Murph.”

Harry cleared his throat a few times and tugged at his bowtie. “Hey, Murph. You, uh, you look…incredible.”

“Thanks. I like your suit.” She tilted her head as she looked up at him.

“What? Something wrong?”

“No, I just…” She reached up and tugged the front of his hair down over his brow. “There. That’s the you I know.”

He checked the mirror and realized he felt much more comfortable with the adjustment. Then he held out his arm and she tucked her hand in the crook of his elbow. He only prayed she couldn’t feel how damn hard his heart was pounding.

“Our chariot awaits,” Thomas said, gesturing as he opened the door again. They all paused to let Margaret and Malcolm take a few pictures and wish them good luck before they filed into the rented limousine and drove off into the night.

-

“Oh my God,” Karrin Murphy said around a mouthful of pepperoni pizza. “Why didn’t they warn us prom was so _boring?_ ”

“Right?” Harry said with an equally full mouth. “I thought there was supposed to be _Sixteen Candles_ -levels of drama. Nope. Just giggling girls, too many pictures, and terrible house dance music. This is a way better use of our time.”

“Definitely.”

The pair had ditched prom a mere hour after arriving and escaped to their favorite pizza joint a couple blocks away, still in their fancy outfits, but they weren’t alone. A few of the other prom patrons who realized how formulaic and uninteresting prom actually was had left as well. Thomas had texted him not long after they left that he’d bailed to go to the after-party, and to tell their parents that he was still in the gym if they asked. Harry didn’t mind. It was excellent blackmail material for later. Plus, he’d let them have the limo all to themselves.

“What curfew did your parents give you?” Murphy asked after a liberal slurping of her Diet Coke.

“Midnight. I think that’s the traditional time. Cinderella-style. What about you?”

“Same. I think my mom’s banking on me coming back even earlier, though.”

Harry smirked over his own Coke. “I take it you didn’t help pick out Lisa’s dress.”

Murphy groaned. “God, that monstrosity? Hell no. She tried to put me in one of those things and I told her I’d build a treehouse out of it if she made me try it on. For God’s sake, it’s got a corset in it. An actual corset.”

Harry’s soda came out of his nose as he collapsed into laughter. “Where’s Jack Sparrow when you need him?”

“Captain Jack Sparrow,” she reminded him through her own giggling.

“My mistake.”

They finished the pizza, cleaned up a bit, and took the limo to Murphy’s mother’s place. The driver politely said nothing as they sat in the back chatting it up, oblivious to the world around them. After all, he was paid by the hour.

“You lied to me, by the way.”

Harry blinked. Murphy shot him a smirk. “You’re not that bad of a dancer.”

“Slow dancing’s nothing but swaying. Hard to mess that up.”

“Yeah? Try it while wearing these heels,” she said, lifting the hem of her dress to show him. Harry noticed…but then also noticed the creamy bare skin in front of him and wondered why it had gotten so warm in the limo all of the sudden.

Murphy bit her bottom lip again, blushing a bit. “Harry?”

“Hmm?” he answered, finally realizing he’d been staring.

“Would it…be crazy if we kissed right now?”

His brown eyes widened. She fidgeted and wrung her hands before pressing them over her burning face a moment later. “Sorry. I didn’t mean that. I think the high fructose corn syrup went straight to my head and—”

She fell silent as he pried her hands down, gently cupped one side of her face, and kissed her.

The whole world drained away from their senses, leaving only the softness of their lips pressed together. Murphy sighed and tilted her head, parting her lips. Harry groaned softly and slipped his tongue between them. She wound an arm around his neck and pulled him down to meet her, her breath shallow and quick, her other hand getting lost in his dark hair. They only broke apart once they heard a rather pointed “ahem” from the driver, who had politely rolled down the back window after he noticed them getting rather into the kissing.

“Wanna know something weird?” Murphy mumbled, completely flushed and breathless.

“Sure, why not?” Harry answered, his voice octaves deeper.

“Kissing you doesn’t feel weird. I kinda like it.”

Harry smiled. “I kinda like you.”

She smiled wider. “Maybe we should do this again. Y’know, without the limo and the dumb high heels and the boring prom.”

“I’d like that.”

She leaned in and kissed him again slowly, sweetly, relishing the happy little sigh that left him as she pulled away and opened the car door. “Night, Harry.”

“Night, Murphy.”

She shut the door. He watched wistfully as she walked into the house. Then he started making plans to thank his meddling brother…and then murder him at the earliest opportunity.

FIN


	12. Noise Complaint

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It turns out Harry and Murphy's union has some unintended consequences.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos to xserpx for coming up with this idea months ago. I was grinning the entire time I wrote it, too.

Harry Dresden was so very, very sure that being with the woman of his literal dreams would reduce some of the embarrassment he suffered in life, but it turned out he was wrong.

_DING-DONG._

Six o’clock in the morning. Harry snarled in the general direction of Karrin’s front door and stuffed his head beneath one of her pillows. He didn’t even want to acknowledge that six o’clock existed, let alone that someone was awake and ringing the doorbell.

_DING-DONG._

“This is not happening,” he groaned. “Not now.”

“It is,” Karrin replied wearily from beside him. “Go do something about it.”

“But I was having The Dream,” he whined, tipping the pillow to one side so she could hear. “You know, the one where you were one of a set of triplets? And all three of you were gymnasts?”

Karrin snorted. “Damn, Dresden. The grass is always greener with you, isn’t it?”

“Don’t get me wrong,” he admitted, pushing up on one elbow enough to raise over her. “This is some pretty damn green grass.”

He waggled his eyebrows before dropping a kiss to her lips. Morning breath and all, it was still a damn good kiss, so much so that he forgot about the doorbell for a moment.

_DING-DONG._

“I’m going to set someone on fire,” Harry growled, struggling into his boxers and a robe.

“Do not set anyone on fire,” Karrin said severely, rolling onto her side and cuddling her pillow.

Harry stormed over to the door and ripped it open. _“What?”_

An old woman stood there on Karrin’s front porch, her expression restrained but frosty. Harry squinted and realized she was actually the next door neighbor. “Oh. Excuse me. I have the manners of a goat in the morning. What can I do for you, Mrs. Crabtree?”

“Mr. Dresden,” she said in a clipped tone. “Let me first start by saying that I am rather delighted that you and Miss Murphy have finally decided to become a proper couple rather than continuing dancing around each other for ten years.”

Harry’s eyebrows rose. “Uh. Thank you. I think.”

“That being said, I felt it necessary to bring to your attention that I am displeased with you.”

“And why is that?”

She stared straight into his eyes. “The noise, Mr. Dresden.”

Harry scratched his head. “Noise? I mean, I didn’t think my AC/DC vinyl could be heard through the walls. I promise I’ll turn it down when it’s my turn to do the housework—”

“Mr. Dresden, I am not referring to your godforsaken rock-and-roll music. I am talking about the noise that happens almost precisely every night between midnight and three am.”

He stared at her. She cleared her throat and spoke in an endlessly exasperated tone. “From you and Miss Murphy’s boudoir.”

Harry Dresden, Winter Knight of Mab, Wizard of the White Council, promptly turned bright red from the base of his neck all the way up to his hairline. _“Oh.”_

“Yes,” Mrs. Crabtree said. “It is quite audible and it has been happening for three nights in a row. While I approve of your vigor, I thought it only fair to warn you that if you do not keep it down from now on, I will be forced to file a noise complaint with the police.”

“Y-Yes ma’am,” Harry mumbled. “I-I will let Murphy know that we’ve been, uh, disturbing you. I apologize for the inconvenience. If there’s anything I can do to make it up to you, please let me know.”

“As a matter of fact, there is. I have a bad back and Henry’s been leaning on his cane a lot lately. If you would be so kind as to rake the leaves in our front yard, I will consider us even.”

“I will be out there in ten minutes, ma’am.”

“Thank you, Mr. Dresden.” With that, the old woman turned and walked down the steps and disappeared into her house next door.

Harry shut the door and shuffled into Karrin’s bedroom, so red-faced that he was sure there was steam shooting out of his ears by now. He opened the closet and started getting dressed wordlessly. Karrin turned over in bed, scooping her blonde hair out of her eyes, blinking sleepily at him.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m going to rake your neighbor’s yard.”

“Oh. That’s nice of you. What brought that on?”

“Apparently, we’ve been keeping them up at night.”

“How? You don’t play your music at night and—” Murphy abruptly stopped talking. _“Oh my God.”_

“Yep.”

“You’re never going to let this go, are you?”

Harry turned around and leaned over his equally red-faced girlfriend, but this time he was grinning madly. He pressed a short, sweet kiss to her lips.

“Maybe when we’re both dead.”

FIN


	13. In Vino Veritas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A reverse AU scene of the short story "Last Call" in Side Jobs. What if Harry found Meditrina first and Murphy walked in on them?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I reeeeeeally love "Last Call" and I thought it would be fun to reverse the situation so that Murphy caught a little glimpse of the sexual tension hanging between her and Harry. Keep in mind I'm fudging the magic stuff a little for the purpose of lolz and shenanigans. Plus, I have always been curious since the stories are told from Harry's perspective if Murphy has moments where she finds Harry sexy. Harry's too oblivious to notice in his own narration, so this is my take on it. Have at thee!

There weren’t a lot of things that could still scare me—or that I will admit to, anyway—but one of them was knowing that the temptress who was peddling enchanted mead that made people violent and crazy was somewhere with my best friend, Harry Dresden.

I aimed a kick at the door—the good, strong kind you see in movies that almost never works, but it can be done with the right gumption—and it lurched open. I found myself in plush room with a wet bar and furniture.

And a dark-haired woman currently straddling my best friend.

She fit the description Harry had given me earlier—shoulder-length hair so dark it had blue highlights, and even from behind, she was beyond voluptuous. That sensuous body curled and uncurled itself over Harry’s upper body, her hips gyrating over his, and from the look of things, he didn’t seem to mind all that much. His hands were anchored over her waist and I could hear low, happy groans of pleasure slipping out of him between kisses.

I clicked the hammer back on my gun.

The woman pulled back finally and craned her neck, fixing me with green-gold eyes that glittered in the overhead lamplight with malice and seduction. “Well. Someone likes dramatic entrances.”

I shrugged. “Go big or go home. Get off him. Slowly.”

The woman smiled and didn’t budge. My grip on the gun tightened. “You must be Murphy.”

I stiffened. Uh-oh. I glanced at Harry. His brown eyes were cloudy and dazed with lust. He looked blissfully intoxicated. The expression made me shiver. It was so odd on him. It left his features too vacant of their normal emotions: good humor, anger, passion, confusion, the works. Harry’s face wasn’t the type for mindless happiness. It also meant she’d gotten through whatever mental defenses usually protected him from this kind of tampering, and he’d told her I was coming. Dammit.

“Yeah,” Harry said, hiccupping slightly, his grin wide. “That’s her alright. God, she’s beautiful, isn’t she?”

I blinked. Twice. Uh. _That_  was new.

“Beautiful is a bit of a stretch,” the dark-haired woman sniffed. “But I can certainly see the appeal.”

“Maybe you didn’t hear the part where I said get the hell away from him,” I snarled.

She clucked her tongue, but this time, she slithered out of Harry’s lap and onto the couch next to him, though she carded her fingers through the hair on the nape of his neck. He leaned into her touch, still blinded by whatever had been either on her lips or in the mead. Shit.

“Now, now, no need to be jealous, dear Murphy,” the woman said. “I fully intend to share the wizard with you over a pint.”

She glanced at him. “Harry, be a dear and invite your lovely friend over for a drink.”

He nodded and slid to his feet with a smoothness he’d never possessed. Harry Dresden was a lot of things, but smooth certainly wasn’t one of them. He was used to being the biggest, tallest thing around. A walking Redwood. He moved carefully at all times unless someone had hit him pretty hard.

This version of Harry did not.

He walked towards me almost gracefully. There was something in the motion that made a part of me want to react to him on an instinctual level. Not fear. I’d all but conquered that over the years on the force. No, this was…troubling. Because I was having a hard time concentrating on the evil bitch who’d drugged him and not concentrating on how utterly masculine and sexy that un-Dresden walk made him look, with his dark hair all mussed and his cheeks flushed and his lips pinker than they should have been.

Oh, boy.

This was going to be a long night.

“Murph,” Harry said in a sing-song voice. “The mead’s really good. Even better than Mac’s ale. You gotta try some.”

I set my feet as he strode closer. “Harry, concentrate. You’re stronger than this. Snap out of it.”

He cocked his head to one side. “Snap out of what? I haven’t felt this good in years.”

I offered him a wry look. “Yeah, exactly. You’re a miserable bastard when you want to be, remember? She’s tampering with your mind. You need to break free of whatever spell she’s got you under.”

“And do you know why that is, Murph?”

“Supernatural tart juice in her lips?”

The woman scowled at me. Petty pleasure spread through me.

He shook his head. “No. ‘Cause I’ve never told you the truth.”

“Which is?”

His chin lowered and he hit me with a gaze that almost rocked me back in my tennis shoes, it was so goddamn sexual. “That I’m absolutely fucking crazy about you.”

My heart did its best imitation of the Tazmanian Devil playing a drum solo. Hot blood rushed up my neck and swallowed my entire face. _No, Murphy. Stop that. Stop every last bit of that thinking in its tracks._

“She’s in your head, Harry,” I said once I’d regained the ability to talk. “She’s making you think these things.”

“No,” he said softly. “She’s not. And I think you know she’s not.”

I licked my lips. “Harry—”

“I’ve wanted to kiss you since you left for Hawaii.”

My eyes widened. _Shit, shit, shit. Shitfuckgoddamnmotherfucker. Stop him before he says something else stupid, Murphy._

I shut my eyes for a second and then leveled a death glare at the woman. “Leave him alone or I’m putting a bullet through your skull.”

She shrugged and spread her hands. “I have done nothing but shown him the desires of his heart, Murphy. He has embraced them, along with that of the gods.”

“Yeah, speaking of which: you’re going to trash the magic booze and turn him and everyone else affected back to normal, or I’m putting your wiggly little ass in the ground.”

She laughed. “Mortal authorities. You’re so confident, aren’t you?”

“And you’re so arrogant, Meditrina.”

The smile vanished at the use of her name. I bared my teeth in a grin. “Sorry, lady. I read. Now make your choice. Fix him or die. You have three seconds.”

The gesture was tiny, almost invisible, but I saw her first finger on her right hand twitch, and Harry stepped into the path of my gun. I immediately swung the barrel away from him. Drunk with magic or not, I wouldn’t shoot him.

“Murph,” he chided me. “It’s not hurting anyone. Not permanently.”

“Harry,” I said in a measured tone. “Step aside. Or I’ll make you.”

He grinned wolfishly and waggled his eyebrows. “Is it wrong that I kinda wanna see that?”

I started to snap at him, but then I glanced all the way up into his face this time. He had his back completely to her.

And then he winked at me.

He didn’t lift his hand high enough over his shoulder that Meditrina could see it, but he pointed a long finger to the upper right corner of the room. I saw a long, unlit rectangular light that hung by a chain.

“C’mon, Murphy,” Harry drawled, drawing closer, his baritone voice deepening, and from this close, it did… _things_ …to me. “One little taste won’t hurt.”

He mouthed, “Now!”

I aimed and fired.

The chain snapped loose and the light swung down in a perfect arc and smacked Meditrina dead in the temple. She didn’t even get a chance to cry out. She flopped over on the couch, unconscious. The light swung back and forth, smacking the wall nearby and shattering glass, before going still.

“Nice shot,” Harry said, turning to check out my handy work.

I lowered the gun…and punched him in the stomach. Hard.

“Gah!” the wizard cried, tossing an alarmed look at me. “What was that for?”

“You were _faking_ the whole time?!” I screeched. “I thought she’d melted your brain or something, Harry. For God’s sake, I was about to shoot her.”

He rubbed his stomach. “I had to sell it until you got here to help.”

I arched an eyebrow and placed my free hand on my hip. “Oh, so it was part of the plan to have her all over you, then?”

He had the grace to blush. “Well, that part I hadn’t anticipated, but…yes.”

I eyed him. He squirmed. “What? I had to take one for the team. You’d have done the same.”

He paused. “Wait, let me just picture that for a second—OW!”

I hit him a second time, in a spot above the first one, and stomped over to Meditrina’s limp form, cuffing her and grumbling insults under my breath. “This is why you’re not a cop, you blundering, stupid, sexist, reckless oaf.”

“Alright, alright, I’m sorry,” Harry sighed, rubbing his second sore spot. “But you have to admit it’s kind of cool that I fooled you.”

I rolled my eyes and dug around for my phone to call for a pick up. “Hardly. I was concerned for your safety. I didn’t actually believe what you were saying.”

I paused as his words flickered through my mind again. _“I’ve wanted to kiss you since you left for Hawaii.”_ Again, my heart did the Tarantela. He’d been acting. Right?

Somehow, I think he knew what I was thinking, because I glanced at him, and he had this soft expression on his face, one he rarely let me see. Harry was always honest with me about anything he could afford to be, but sometimes…sometimes he looked at me like that, and the only word for it was longing. I knew it all too well.

Sometimes my face looked like that too.

“I’ll, uh, start rounding up the booze,” he said rather quietly, all traces of humor gone. “Thanks, Murph.”

He turned his back on me and headed for the door. I shut my eyes, cursed myself, and called out to him.

“Harry!”

He stopped and glanced at me over his shoulder. I offered him a fond smile.

“Hurry up. I owe you a drink.”

He smiled and nodded. “You’re a hell of a dame, Murphy.”

“Pig.”

FIN

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *leaps on top of the Harry/Murphy trashpile with a loud speaker* HARRY AND MURPHY NEED TO FUCK ALREADY 2K17.


	14. Escape

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An alternate version of Dead Beat, where Harry actually did realize what Murphy was trying to ask him when she came over to tell him to "water her plants"--that she needs an escape route from something she's not ready to face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So a very cool fellow Dresdenite mentioned to me that it's possible (via hearsay/Word of God) that Murphy actually went with Kincaid to Hawaii because it was the same weekend as her sister Lisa's wedding to her ex-husband Rich, which blows my mind and is an amazing idea, whether it's true or not. I started thinking about how the whole series would have been different if Harry had realized what was going on and if he hadn't been so cautious. Thus, let's pretend that the events of Dead Beat don't take place right now. Let's pretend our precious cinnamon bun Harry Dresden figured out what Murphy was getting at and decides to take actions into his own hands. This is just a take on how it could have gone. Don't fret the canon. Let go, let flow. 
> 
> Also, um, warning? Explicit content? But hopefully you like that sort of thing. Or maybe I just do. Sorry.

As I watched Karrin Murphy walk away from me towards her car, towards her _stupid_ trip to _stupid_ Hawaii with _stupid_ Kincaid, something came over me. A thought. A stupid thought, in keeping with how utterly _stupid_ I’d been after all this time.

I glanced at my left arm. How much did I really need the thing? How long would it take to heal if she decided to break it in five places? A few months? Sure. Might as well risk it.

I gritted my teeth and barked, “Murphy!”

She had the car door open, one hand resting on the window, blinking up at me as I stomped over to her. She opened her mouth to reply, but I slammed her door shut, grabbed her waist with my left hand and her chin in the other, shoved her against the car, and kissed the living daylights out of her.

Oh, dear God.

Why the hell haven’t I done this sooner?

Murphy’s lips were soft. Achingly soft. The kind that makes you pull your hair out and forget how to speak English. She never wore lipstick or lip gloss, but I’d always been able to smell the faintest hint of strawberry lip balm, just like I could smell the strawberry shampoo she used. The smoothness, the texture of her lips on mine was unforgettable. It was an explosion of color and taste and pure sensation. I was suddenly fine with the idea that she was about to break my left arm in five places for manhandling her, because this kiss was so goddamn _worth it_.

It took an ugly amount of will power to break the kiss, but I did finally when I’d completely run out of air and not a second sooner. Her cheeks were flushed. She was breathing hard. Then again, so was I.

I ran my thumb across her cheekbone, our noses grazing, my voice low and hoarse and trembling, but still rather firm. “Don’t go. Don’t go to Hawaii with Kincaid. Let me take you somewhere, Karrin. Anywhere. I don’t want you to go.”

Something in her blue eyes changed. I’d seen the look she’d given me before she had walked away. She wouldn’t tell me what she wanted—what she truly wanted—and so she’d hidden behind those impenetrable walls of hers again because I’d been too thick to understand. Now, I could see those walls crumbling. Now, I could see what she’d been trying to tell me this whole time. She needed me. She needed to get away from something. Kincaid was an easy way out, and she probably might get out of it what she wanted, but not what she needed. A terrifying thrill raced through me as I realized I was her escape.

I’d said the right words in the right order at the right time, for probably the first time in my whole damned life.

Murphy licked her lips, still staring at mine, which made me shiver with excitement. “If you ever grab me like that again, I’ll kill you.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Give me a minute to cancel my flight.”

She stepped out of my arms and walked a few feet away. She stumbled a little. Weak knees. I couldn’t hide a grin.

Then I stopped and thought. Oh crap.

Where the hell am I going to take Murphy on vacation?

-

There weren’t a lot of perks being a private investigator, but one of the few was sometimes you were offered gifts from former clients you’d helped. I’m not the kind of man to take advantage of them despite the kindness of the gesture, but for Murphy, I’d do just about anything. Plus, short of getting on a train to Ebenezar’s farm, which brought a whole host of personal problems into play, I didn’t have that many options. Sure, I probably could have asked Thomas to find me somewhere nice to take Murphy, but then I’d have had to tell him I was taking Murphy away for the weekend, and I’d never hear the end of it. As it stands, I’d told him I caught a case and I’d be gone until Monday. He’d grunted and accepted the lie, but I was sure it wouldn’t hold water forever. Sooner or later, I’d have to deal with that smug, pretty-boy grin when he found out he’d been right all along. Jerk.

Point being, that’s how we ended up at a house on Lake Michigan.

Murphy shut the door to the Blue Beetle and whistled, staring up at the two-story wooden cottage-style house, clearly impressed. “Who, what, where, when, how, and why?”

I chuckled as I opened the door for Mouse, who bounded out happily and immediately began to sniff everything in the vicinity. “Long story. I’ll explain after we’re settled.”

I clipped Mouse’s leash on and let him inspect the yard and the driveway while I fished my duffel bag and Murphy’s suitcase out of the trunk. She held out her hand for hers and I handed it to her, wisely deciding not to be chivalrous or she’d sock me and drive back to Chicago in a huff. I’d damaged her pride enough with that kiss. I wasn’t going to push my luck anytime soon.

I clucked my tongue as I walked up the steps to the front door and Mouse raced up and pushed in front of me, sniffing under the door. He then planted his butt and looked at me happily, signifying that everything was on the up-and-up. I trusted the client, but this is me we’re talking about, and there were still plenty of things out there that wanted to punch my ticket. Better safe than sorry. And anyone who wanted a piece of me while Mouse was around would certainly be sorry.

I unlocked the door and sent a challenging glance at Murphy, who scowled at me and walked through the threshold with her suitcase. She stopped a moment later and whistled a second time.

The house’s foyer was wide and followed through with the beautiful, rich color of oak along the floors and the walls and the ceilings. There was a staircase directly to our right leading down to the basement, and another set of stairs going up to the bedrooms. Straight ahead was a den you could fit my entire apartment into, with massive high ceilings and a peek at the covered deck hanging out over the cold waters of the lake. You could see onto it for miles.

I shut the door and took a look around to get a feel of the place, and Murphy did the same. The den had a fireplace, naturally, and two enormous four-person couches set up around a coffee table. The TV was above the fireplace, and was damn near big enough to qualify for a theater. The kitchen was to our right, and could have fit another one of my apartments in it. There was enough counter space to make a meal for an army, as well as an island, and a shiny steel refrigerator instead of the standard white ones. I spotted a half-bathroom nearby as well as a hall closet.

We finished the sweep of the first floor and headed upstairs. Five bedrooms. Two shared enormous bathrooms with cream-colored ceramic sinks. I spotted cute little pink sheets and decorations and then blue decorations in the others, confirming my thoughts. Four kids: two girls and two boys. The master bedroom was at the end of the hall with its own bathroom with a garden tub big enough for two. I tried not to think about that last bit all that much.

“This is you, I suppose,” I said, gesturing towards the titanic bed on a four-post frame.

Murphy snorted. “I’ll need a running jump to get on that thing.”

“I can give you a boost,” I said with a cheeky grin, and promptly realized how it sounded. “Uh, or you can become a vault gymnast in the next few hours.”

The joke swallowed up the accidental implication, to my relief, because she rolled her eyes and punched me in the arm. “You sure those beds are going to be big enough for you? Doesn’t look like the kids are any older than maybe elementary school age.”

I shrugged. “Haven’t checked the basement yet. My gut says that’s where the adult guest rooms are.”

“Sounds good,” she said, shrugging out of her jacket. “I’ll meet you down there in a minute once I’m settled.”

“Aye, aye,” I said, saluting her and closing the door behind me on the way out. I exhaled. Well, I hadn’t quite fit my whole foot in my mouth yet. Good for me.

I took both staircases down and found my theory to be correct. The steps led into a common area with lower ceilings, but around the same amount of space as the upstairs den with two bedrooms on either side with bathrooms connecting them. I picked one out and set down my bag. A moment later, Mouse wandered past, still inspecting everything with his nose and wagging his tail. I smiled as I watched him. It was nice for him to be somewhere that he could stretch his legs for once. I didn’t like keeping him cooped up at my place. He deserved to have room to be, well, a dog.

Murphy’s hard, even footsteps echoed and she appeared, glancing around. She had a green-and-blue flannel shirt on over a t-shirt, jeans, and boots, her hair loose and framing her cheeks. She looked…relaxed. Something in my chest unfurled as I looked at her.

“Harry,” she said without glancing at me. “Seriously, this place cost more than twenty years of my salary.”

I stood and walked over to her, grinning. “Perks of the job. There aren’t many, but when they happen, they _happen_.”

“No shit. Looks like they even had a maid come by and straighten the place up for us.”

“And stock the fridge,” I said. “Hungry?”

“Yeah, I could go for a sandwich right about now.”

We returned upstairs. I cobbled together two enormous Scooby-Doo-worthy sandwiches and we went out onto the porch, where there were eight basket-style chairs with huge cushions and giant, woolen blankets to combat the cold coming off the lake. Lanterns hung from the ceiling to cast an orange glow over everything. I sipped some coffee and stood there, watching the lake. Karrin curled up on one of the chairs with a blanket and did the same. The sounds of nature serenaded us. It was one of the only peaceful moments I’d ever experienced.

“So,” I said quietly. “What are we running from?”

Murphy didn’t answer right away. She sipped her coffee, her blue eyes distant.

“Lisa’s getting married tomorrow.”

I shut my eyes for a second. “Damn.”

She nodded. “Not going will cause a shitstorm for years to come, but…Harry…I just…”

I held up my hand. “You don’t owe me an explanation, Karrin. I understand. It would be like if Susan came back and had started dating Thomas behind my back. I can’t even imagine how you’re feeling right now. It’s a betrayal by two people who are supposed to be part of your family. That’s not something you can just shrug off. And you know me well enough that I’m not one to judge.”

She eyed me. “Except when it comes to Kincaid.”

I fought the urge to frown. “To be fair, that’s different. I’ve seen what he is. I know you’re a grownup, Murphy. I would never try to tell you what to do, but…he’s not good enough for you. He won’t ever be. Casual or otherwise. You’re worth more than that. You deserve better than that. Always.”

I swallowed and looked away from her, suddenly nervous, and drank the hot coffee. Out of my peripheral, I could see a tiny smile on her lips and a bit of color in her cheeks.

“Thanks, Harry.”

To hell with it. I leaned in and kissed the top of her head, saying nothing else while we were out there.

A couple hours later, I walked with Karrin up to the master bedroom. My heart went pitty-pat the entire way up the staircase and I stuffed my hands into my jeans so she wouldn’t see them shaking. She opened the door and leaned against the jamb, her blue eyes cool, her expression careful.

“What’s on the agenda for tomorrow?”

I waggled my eyebrows. “That’s for me to know and you to find out.”

She rolled her eyes. “Typical. Knowing you, it’ll involve explosions and leave me in the ICU for several weeks. Trouble’s never far behind you, Dresden.”

“That’s what makes life worth living, Murph. The adventure of a new day.”

Mouse came shuffling up the steps and without glancing at either of us, barged his way into the master bedroom and hopped up on the end of the bed. He turned in a circle, sneezed, and settled down in a big furry lump.

I snorted. “Traitor.”

Murphy grinned. “Direct, isn’t he?”

“It works when you’re that adorable.”

She shook her head. “Night, Harry.”

I licked my lips, my heart ricocheting off my rib cage, and thought rather intensely about what to do next. I wanted to kiss her. Hell, I wanted to shoo Mouse off the bed, carry her to it, and give her about thirty consecutive orgasms while I was at it, but I knew that was just my neglected libido talking. Karrin was my friend, first and foremost. And she was hurting. She didn’t need some broad-chested Lothario right now. She needed a friend. And I damn sure wouldn’t be the one to hurt her. I’d be the guy to set the person who hurt her on fire and then scatter the ashes afterward.

Instead, I touched her cheek gently and kissed her forehead. She leaned into it just a little and sighed quietly. I met her eyes for just a second, smiling a little.

“Sweet dreams, Karrin.”

She smiled back and disappeared into the bedroom. I breathed a sigh of relief and went to bed alone.

-

There weren’t a lot of chances for me to sleep in with my lifestyle, but this time I took full advantage. The bed was an amazing thing, all soft and squishy, and the comforter was so thick I could have survived a nuclear explosion in it. I slept hard and long, and woke up not knowing what century it was, which meant I had slept incredibly well. The only reason I woke at all was because of the heavenly aroma of coffee.

“Wakey, wakey, eggs and bakey,” Murphy’s voice chimed in cheerfully from somewhere nearby.

I growled something unintelligible and pulled the comforter over my head. She laughed. It was a pretty sound I didn’t get to hear nearly enough. Good to know my grumpiness was entertaining.

“I have coffee, remember?”

I thought about it. Alright. I could concede her point in that case.

I sat up in my nest of comforter-cloud and accepted the coffee. She’d put the appropriate amounts of cream and sugar in, which I liked in diabetic proportions, and offered me a cinnamon-raisin bagel as well. She watched me with utter amusement, which meant I probably looked a mess right now, but I didn’t care because coffee.

“Hrgnrkgn,” I mumbled, my mouth full of bagel-y goodness. She arched an eyebrow.

“How long have you been up?” I tried again.

“Few hours. Caught sunrise up over the lake. Thing of beauty.”

“I’d know alllllll about that,” I said, waving a finger at myself. She laughed again and reached out, presumably smoothing my hair down.

“Definitely. I figured this was the only way to get you moving or you’ll just hide in here the entire weekend and sleep.”

“It’s a compelling argument,” I agreed. “But that’s not why we’re here. Mostly. Gimme fifteen and I’ll be dressed and ready.”

Her blue eyes sparkled. “What a pity.”

I gawked as she turned and walked out, closing the door behind her. Did she just…?

Then I thought about it and glanced down. I turned beet red. I’d forgotten that I had slept in just my boxers, since we had an entire floor separating us and there was no real need for modesty. She’d just gotten a pretty good look at most of my…attributes.

Sigh. I get no respect.

-

I’m no expert in the romantic field. I’ve had some experience, but most of them involved candlelit dinners and massages and such things. Karrin didn’t strike me as the type. I wasn’t exactly courting her, but the thought had entered my mind that it would be prudent to find an activity she’d enjoy that could serve the purpose as either a friendly outing or a date.

So I took her fishing.

…what? Don’t look at me like that.

I made a run into a nearby tackle shop, loaded up a cooler full of the essentials, and rented a boat for us, which Karrin knew how to drive. The most experience I’d ever had with a boat had been when I was a kid in a bubble bath, for crying out loud. Or maybe watching those guys from Jaws.

Honestly, I wasn’t the outdoorsy type, but everything was worth it when I saw the big ole smile on Karrin’s face as we pulled off from the dock onto the water and she steered us towards a good spot to drop a line. I popped open a couple beers for us and settled in. Karrin instructed me on how to set the bait and how to cast the line, even showing me with the hands on approach, which I vigorously approved of. The lake had visitors, but it wasn’t overcrowded, so we got plenty of time to ourselves; just sitting and talking and laughing as Mouse barked at the fish and tried to snatch them when they swam past. Well, try isn’t the right word, because he did actually catch one. It just startled me, so by the time I got it from him, it slipped out of my hands and plopped back into the water. Mouse gave me that kind of Bugs Bunny “what a maroon” stare before ignoring me for the next thirty minutes. He eventually forgave me after I bribed him with a hot dog.

We went hiking afterward. I didn’t care for it as much as the fishing, probably because there was no beer involved, but I didn’t hate it. Mouse had a blast. He and Karrin often jogged ahead of me along the trail, scolding me for being slow, but I was doing it on purpose. I liked seeing her this way. Karrin had so many responsibilities, so many burdens. This was one of the only times I’d seen her without that thick metaphorical armor on her shoulders. She got to be herself. I didn’t want to rush that, not for an instant.

That evening, we dropped Mouse off at the lake house and had dinner at a local steak joint. I started getting a little nervous then. It felt very…date-ish. Not that she and I hadn’t grabbed dinner a thousand times before at Mac’s, but the fact that we were away for a weekend and spent the entire time together added a layer of context I wasn’t sure I was ready to deal with just yet. And she was so damned pretty in these low lights in this place.

“You’re staring,” Murphy said softly, slicing up her ribeye, and quite pointedly not looking at me.

I blinked. “Am I?”

“And smiling,” she said matter-of-factly. “Do I even want to know what’s going on in the masterpiece theater inside your head right now?”

I cleared my throat and returned my gaze to my T-bone. “You never know. You might like it a little.”

She rolled her eyes. “Doubtful.”

I shrugged. “You never know until you try.”

_Ah, hell, Harry, you’ve gotten this far without making it awkward. Shut up and eat your steak before you get yourself in trouble._

She gave me a careful, thoughtful look. “Something on your mind?”

“You have to have a mind for that, first.”

She smirked. “Point taken. If it helps, it’s not just you. This is…a little weird.”

My stomach rolled over. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” she said, a bit shyly. “It feels…different.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

“No. I think it’s what I needed. A change of pace. Somewhere that I don’t have to be tough and brave all the time. Where I’m not in danger and I’m not protecting someone.”

She nibbled her lower lip. It was adorable. And I’d never tell her that or I’d find her steak knife in my hand. “I guess I’ve never thought about us that way. Even when we’re fighting monsters, when everything goes quiet again, you’re probably one of the only people I can trust completely. I can rely on you. I know you’ve got my back, and not just when we’re in danger.”

She risked a quick glance at me. “Thank you, Harry. For all of this.”

I swallowed past the lump in my throat and slowly took her hand, running my thumb over her knuckles. Her hand was small and warm. “You’re welcome, Karrin. Always.”

She blushed the tiniest bit and returned to her steak. I ordered another beer, hoping it would cool my own burning cheeks.

-

I was pretty sure Mouse was onto us. This time when I walked Karrin up to the master bedroom, he didn’t follow. He’d disappeared into the basement. Presumptuous mutt.

Once more, Karrin opened the door and hovered in the doorway. The lake house had settled into a dark, quiet, intimate mood around us. My pulse beat so hard that I was sure she could see it thrumming in my neck. There were too many things in my head. Too many questions and scenarios running. I couldn’t think straight.

God bless her, Karrin seemed to get it. She didn’t rush me or say anything at all. She just stared up at me, waiting patiently to see what I’d do.

“Karrin, I…” I took a deep breath. “I’ve been hurt a lot before because I was too stupid to ask the questions I should have asked. I’m not very good at it, to be honest. I didn’t bring you up here because of some kind of male fantasy where I’d sweep you off your feet. You’re important to me. I trust you more than I trust myself. I always have.”

She nodded once, slowly, her voice gentle. “Keep going.”

“So,” I said, licking my lips. “I don’t want to have to guess what this is. What we are. I don’t want to assume or presume or whatever you want to call it. I brought you here because I want you to be happy. You, not me. But I…”

My throat closed up. Damn it, why was this so goddamn hard to say? “Tell me I’m not alone in this. In the way that I feel about you.”

Eternity stretched before us as I waited for her answer. She reached up and touched the side of my face. I braced, expecting rejection, but instead she spoke again.

“Show me.”

I stared down at her, uncertain. “Are you sure?”

The smile grew. “Shut up and kiss me, Dresden.”

She didn’t have to tell me twice.

Karrin was five foot nothing, but I didn’t care—I leaned down until our lips met and the world exploded again around me, bursting into cinders on all sides. A shockwave of pleasure swept down the front of my body. She sighed against my lips, a tiny, wistful, happy sound, and it awakened something that had lain dormant in me for longer than I could remember.

The master bedroom door flew halfway open and then slammed shut when I shoved Karrin up against it. She didn’t seem to mind, mostly because her hands were busy tearing through the buttons holding my shirt closed, while mine were tugging her flannel shirt down. She shrugged out of it and I went for the t-shirt next, peeling it over her head inside out. Her bra was simple and a pale grey that emphasized the creamy texture of her skin, though it was growing flushed from the attention. I cursed the lack of mobility in my left hand as I saw the beautiful swell of her breasts. Couldn’t worship her properly with just the one, but I was damn well going to try.

I kissed her throat, going lower along the delicate skin one inch at a time, and she wound her arms around my neck, gasping slightly at the points where I bit down to leave little pink marks. I forced myself to slow down just a bit as I reached the gentle curve of the exposed parts of her breasts, dropping feather-light kisses over the amazingly soft skin. She let me do it for maybe half a minute before she made a desperate groaning noise and snarled, “Off.”

I raised my eyebrows. “Working one-handed here.”

She reached behind her and snatched the thing off without hesitation. I almost fell down from the rapid relocation of blood straight to my groin. Goddamn, there wasn’t a sexier woman on this planet.

I knelt in front of her, wrapping my arms around her waist to bring her in close, and swept my tongue across the hardened tip of her left breast. Karrin shuddered hard and grabbed my shoulder and my head in each hand, gasping my name in a way that sent little shivers down my spine. She tasted sweet and her skin was so soft it made my head spin, but that could’ve been the lack of blood thing again. I teased her until her skin was rosy and gorgeous and her cheeks were flushed and she couldn’t stop panting out my name in ever-increasing impatience.

She grabbed a handful of my hair and jerked my head back, kissing me roughly, her voice lower. “Bed. Now.”

“As milady wishes,” I said with a wink, and she bit my lip with a little playful glare. I scooped her up in my arms and carried her over to the mammoth bed and plopped her down on it, finally getting rid of my open shirt, my jeans, my socks, my boots, leaving me in just the boxer-briefs and the glove covering my scarred hand.

I couldn’t resist a rather feral grin as I undid the belt to her jeans and pulled them off her legs, and she blushed just a bit at the look on my face, and it was cute as hell. Like the bra, her panties were simple grey cotton, and no less sexy than if she’d been wearing thousand-dollar Victoria’s Secret underwear. And her legs… _God_ , her legs. Anyone who thought short women couldn’t have sexy legs was insane. They were toned and slender with just enough lean muscle to let you know how much power and finesse were in them. Her toes were painted a pretty kind of seashell-white-pink color, and I grinned wider at the mental image of sensible Karrin Murphy painting her toes in the middle of the night, her hair up in a messy bun, probably while watching the Food Network channel.

I didn’t gloat. There’d be time for that later. Instead, I gripped her ankles and jerked her body down the bedspread a bit, until I could stand between her legs. She made a little surprised sound that I cherished rather deeply and I lowered my mouth to the tight, flat surface of her stomach. I started just below her breasts, kissing the smooth skin one inch at a time, going slowly, relishing the way it made her purr. I reached her navel and bit down a little, swiping my tongue over it, and then ventured lower to the little V where her thighs began. By now, Murphy was panting heavily in anticipation. She wasn’t the only one.

I gripped the hem of her underwear and tugged it off, and didn’t look down; choosing to stare into those fathomless blue eyes instead to gauge her reaction. She stared back at me fearlessly, a challenge resting in her gaze. She was made of steel, but that wouldn’t last much longer. Not if I had anything to say about it.

I let a dangerous little smirk cross my lips as I pushed her knees further apart, still staring at her, and her cheeks reddened a little more, matching the rest of her. Defiant ‘til the end. That’s my Murphy.

She inhaled sharply as I lifted her legs atop my shoulders and stretched out onto my forearms, focusing on the enticing scent and sight below my mouth. Christ almighty. If a man could die from want, I certainly would in a few seconds. Still, I willed myself not to rush and laid soft, wet, open-mouthed kisses along her inner thighs. Murphy arched her back and gripped dual handfuls of the bedspread, a fine tremble rippling down her body. I followed the places I’d kissed with little soft bites, enough to make her skin flush, until finally she couldn’t stand it any longer.

“For God’s sake, Harry!”

Bingo.

I tilted my face enough to give her that first long, slow lick exactly where she wanted it.

Karrin Murphy moaned.

And I mean, _moaned_.

I shuddered from head to toe and almost lost it right then and there.

She tasted sweet and she was intriguingly wet from the foreplay. I lapped at the outer edges of her and circled inward one minute at a time, and then slipped my tongue inside her. Karrin slid her fingers into my hair and pushed her hips upward, burying me deeper between those toned thighs, and it almost muted the delicious sound of her moaning. She rolled her lower body gently against my mouth, finding a rhythm, and I followed her lead, licking, sucking, nibbling everywhere I could touch. It didn’t take long. I felt the tension rising inside her and slid my mouth higher until my lips closed over her clit.

Karrin screamed.

I never wanted to hear another sound again for as long as I lived.

Her body convulsed on the bed and then abruptly went still. She collapsed into labored breaths and let me go. I licked my mouth clean and straightened up, casting my gaze over her as she floated down from her orgasm. If there was a more beautiful sight in the world, I sure as hell didn’t know it.

After a moment or two, her eyelids flickered and then opened, revealing bright blue eyes glazed with lust. I could tell she was a little impressed, and maybe even surprised. It took a lot to get that out of Karrin Murphy.

“God, Harry,” she mumbled, pushing her hair away from her face. “Just… _God_.”

I twitched one shoulder in an attempt at a cavalier shrug. “S’what happens when you bottle it up for so long.”

I let the humor drop out of my voice as I smiled down at her. “After all, I’ve been wanting to do that since I met you.”

“No shit,” she said absently. “You should have mentioned that you were an expert at oral sex on your business card or something.”

I laughed softly and climbed onto the bed, planting my knees on either side of her. “I’ll take it under advisement.”

She looped her arms around my neck and brought me down to her for a kiss. True, with our height difference it gave me a bit of a crick in my back, but it was well worth the strain. About halfway through it, she slid her hands down my spine—mm, boy, did that feel nice—to the boxer-briefs and then slipped one inside them.

Mother of God.

I couldn’t suppress a low, hungry moan as her fingers encircled my cock and she started pumping it in agonizingly slow strokes, mirroring how I’d been with her. Turnabout is fair play and payback is a bitch, but damn, this was torture. I all but melted in the palm of her hand, literally. I hadn’t felt this good in ages. She was killing me and I was about to die an insanely happy wizard.

I felt her wriggling down the bedspread towards the area, but I gripped her shoulders and stopped her, shaking my head. She opened her mouth in question, but I grunted my dissent.

“No way I’ll last if you go that route,” I said, my breath quick and shallow. “Harry Dresden ain’t no minute man.”

She choked on a laugh. “Well, at least you’re honest.”

I grinned. “Damn straight.”

I gripped her hips and flipped us, balancing her over my lap. I had my arms around her when she caught my left arm, sliding her hand down my wrist to take off the glove.

On instinct alone, I snatched my hand away. Then I realized what I’d done and forced myself to calm down. Holy hell. Where had that come from?

“Harry,” she said gently. “I want you. All of you. It’s okay.”

I struggled to speak past the mild panic rushing through me. “It’s…Karrin, it’s not exactly the most arousing thing to see.”

“It’s you, Harry,” she said in a softly chiding tone. “I want you to touch me. I want you to trust me.”

I swallowed hard and let her soothing words flow over me. She was right. She had come this far. I trusted her with my life. Surely I could trust her with this.

She read the expression on my face and then carefully peeled the glove away. I winced a bit at the sight of my hand, but her face never changed. Instead, she ran her fingers lightly over mine and I felt them relax somewhat, which was a feat in and of itself. She brought my hand to the small of her back and kissed me, cupping my face between her fingers. I lost myself in that kiss. In that moment. Somehow or other, I’d always wanted to be here, with her.

My lips were still seared onto hers when she took me inside her.

My eyes slammed shut and I groaned helplessly at the tight, slippery muscles encompassing my cock. God almighty. Pure golden heat drenched my skin like warm honey. I wrapped my arms around her and all but crushed her to my chest as she sank onto me completely, until her soft backside rested in the groove of my pelvis. Karrin shivered in my arms and sighed my name into my mouth, her voice thick with emotion and want and need and everything I’d ever longed to hear from her. And she was all mine tonight.

She kept still for almost half a minute before she raised up on those gorgeous legs of hers and started moving on top of me, tilting her hips, taking me in and out at a gentle but urgent pace. I devoured her lips and stroked her naked spine, lost in the rise and fall of our bodies together on the bed. I did my best to keep still, to let her have control, but before long I couldn’t help myself; I thrust upward into her, sliding deeper into her molten heat, drawing new sounds of pleasure from her. She was driving me crazy. She was so soft and warm and passionate and beautiful. All I wanted to do was make her understand how I felt about her, how no one else made me feel the way she did. She was my light.

“Harry,” she whimpered as my thrusts got quicker and harder underneath her. “Oh God, _Harry_.”

My name on her lips rang like a thousand symphonic bells. I gripped her tightly and rolled us, planting my hands on the bed, folding my body so I could kiss her while I kept thrusting harder, faster, driven by the ecstatic cries she let out. She arched into me, her nails digging into my shoulders, her head thrown back in utter abandonment as I let loose every ounce of lust and love I felt for her in that one moment.

Then that miracle occurred.

I slipped my hand between our bodies and ran my thumb across her clit on the apex of every frantic thrust.

Karrin climaxed.

And the world exploded a second time.

Every single nerve in my body screamed at the same time in pure delight of the release. I plunged over the edge into my own orgasm, burying my face in her neck and groaning her name as it roared through my veins; inescapable and impossible and utterly fantastic in every way.

Everything went black.

I woke up some indeterminable amount of time later on my side, one arm tossed over Karrin’s damp upper torso, cushioned beneath her plush little breasts, half of my overly large frame draped down her side, our legs tangled together, her head lying on my other arm. We probably looked like some kind of bizarre jigsaw puzzle. I was far too happy to care, honestly.

“You know,” Karrin said in a hoarse, but utterly satisfied voice. “Maybe I should go on these getaways more often.”

I offered her a sleepy grin. “Maybe.”

She tilted her head and smiled at me, stroking one side of my face as she kissed me. “Thanks for helping me escape.”

“Escape?” I said, curling my arm enough to bring her into my embrace completely. “Got it all wrong there, dollface. You’re not going anywhere now that I’ve gotten a hold of you.”

She smirked. “You’re lucky I’m a willing captive.”

“Don’t make me start singing that song.”

“Harry, don’t you dare.”

“If you like piiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiña coladas—OW! Alright, fine, I’ll just hum it.”

FIN

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ALL HAIL KYO, QUEEN OF THE HARRY/MURPHY TRASHPILE.
> 
> Or review. You know. Do what ya like, really.


	15. When Harry Met Murphy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a headcanon about the day after Harry and Murphy bumped into each other for the first time on that bridge in "A Restoration of Faith." Loosely canon-compliant.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So my goofy self didn't realize we DO actually see Harry and Murphy meet for the first time in "A Restoration of Faith" from Side Jobs, and so I decided to poke at what it might have been like when Murphy actually met him and held a full conversation with him for the first time. Hopefully, this sounds like something that could have happened in the books. Give it a shot, won't you?
> 
> *canonballs into the Harry/Murphy trashpile*

Chicago was a weird city, and I’ve only just realized it’s about to get infinitely weirder thanks to the night I just had.

My Dad was a cop. I had always been able to tell when he’d seen something he couldn’t rectify in his mind, because he’d go straight to bed and then approach it with fresh eyes in the morning. I did the same.

Needless to say, I didn’t sleep well.

The dream was chaotic and frantic. Darkness. An enormous monster crawling out from the darkness and a little girl screaming for help. I fought it. But all I could do was fight it, not kill it. It towered over me, all beastly rage, the kind of thing you read about in a Grimm’s fairytale.

But then I saw the man.

He was too lean to be healthy, and the tallest person I’d ever met. He swung a cleaver that split the beast—he’d called it a troll, if you can believe that—into hundreds of tiny beings that scattered in fear. Then it was over. And all I was left with was that man, smiling at me as he offered my police cap back to me, and his smile was equal parts kind, amused, and grateful.

I woke up determined about two things.

One, what I’d seen had been real, and I wasn’t having a mental breakdown.

Two, I was damn well not going to ever be caught off-guard by something like that again.

That morning, I made myself drag the Yellow Pages out of my dusty shelf and flipped through it until I found Ragged Angel’s listing. I took a deep breath and dialed.

Clearly, one of them wasn’t a morning person, because he answered with a distinctly tired, borderline sleepy growl. “Nick speaking.”

“Nick,” I said, in an even, patient voice. “It’s Officer Murphy.”

A pause. He cleared his throat, sounding nervous, but attempting to be more polite this time. “Officer Murphy, what can I do for you?”

The tone conveyed that someone was with him. I smiled a bit. “Mind handing the phone to the beanpole?”

“Depends. What’s up?”

“Neither of you are in trouble, if that’s what you’re asking.”

A shuffling noise. Then, the deep baritone of the man from the bridge rolled over my eardrums. “Good morning, Officer Murphy. What can I do for you?”

“You can meet me at the coffee shop on Michigan Avenue in thirty minutes. Non-negotiable.”

“Ah. I think I can do that, officer.”

“Good.” I waited a beat and then added. “Don’t be late. And if you’re a no show, you’re not going to like what happens afterward.”

I could hear the grin in his voice as he answered, “I’m not one to make a lady wait. I’ll be there.”

He hung up before I could shoot an annoyed comment at the “lady” part. I stared at my phone, my lips twisted in a scowl. Smartass. I could tell I was already going to regret this meeting, but I hung up and got dressed before heading out.

-

The beanpole did more than keep his word. He actually got there before I did. He was leaning against a lamp post and watching the cars whizz past on the street, his hands in his pockets. I kept a steady gait and let my gaze drag over him for the details.

Sunlight did interesting things for him. First of all, he was younger than I’d thought—definitely not out of his twenties yet. His skin was a little paler than your average person’s, and it coincided with how lean he was. He probably didn’t eat enough food or get enough exercise, so it gave him a bedraggled, constantly tired type of demeanor. He hadn’t shaved. The stubble didn’t look half-bad on him, meaning he probably had it more often than not. His hair stuck up a bit in the front, swept that way by the wind, and it wasn’t expertly cut. He had dark eyes to go along with the dark hair, and while he wasn’t exactly handsome, he wasn’t bad looking by any stretch. His expression was that of someone faintly amused by something, as if he had an inner monologue running at all times. He wore a black AC/DC t-shirt, faded Levis, and boots, with the same enormously out-of-place canvas duster draped around him. The last thing I noticed was the silver necklace that had a pendant made up of a round circle and a star. Interesting choice.

He noticed me when I was about forty paces away, and he surprised me with a warm, friendly smile that transformed his peculiar face from ‘not bad looking’ to ‘absolutely stunning.’ He wore the smile very well for a guy who could look like a scarecrow if he put in the effort. Still, I was a cop. I knew better than to accept things at face value.

What was more telling is that he didn’t give me the usual ‘up and down’ scan that most men did. I was small and blonde and fit. I was no stranger to guys checking me out, but this man’s eyes were all for my face. I filed that away for later.

“Officer Murphy,” he said pleasantly. “Good to see you in the daylight.”

“Maybe,” I said coolly, flicking my gaze over him. “Shall we?”

“After you,” he said, opening the door to the coffee shop. I glared.

“Uh-oh,” he said, the smile widening into a playful grin. “I take it you don’t care for chivalry.”

“It’s dead for a reason,” I said tartly, a hand on my hip. “I shot it in the head.”

He barked out a laugh and let the door swing shut. “My mistake.”

I pointedly opened the door for him and he shook his head, chuckling as he walked through it. We put in our orders—he took his with lots of cream and sugar, and I took mine black—I’d had a long night, after all—and we stole a little booth in the corner away from prying eyes. He sipped his coffee as if it were ambrosia from heaven, which led me to the correct conclusion that he definitely wasn’t a morning person.

“So,” I said in my best flat, neutral tone. “Who are you?”

“In an existential sense or—”

I rolled my eyes. “Let’s start with your name, if you don’t mind.”

His brown eyes sparkled with good humor. “Harry Dresden. Am I going to be lucky enough to learn your first name, officer?”

I eyed him. “Karrin.”

“Karrin,” he repeated, and the way his voice rolled over the syllables was…interesting. It sounded like he’d tasted my name almost as much as the coffee he was still sipping. Maybe he was committing it to memory. Or maybe he was trying to flirt underhandedly. I ignored the latter thought.

“I’d prefer it if we stayed on a last name basis,” I told him frankly.

He nodded. “Yes ma’am.”

I bristled and almost corrected him, but I knew he’d done it out of respect, not spite, so I let it slide. “Now tell me what I saw last night.”

Harry Dresden took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “That’s…a very long, complicated story.”

“Simplify it.”

He turned the paper cup in his hands. He wasn’t stalling. I could see the cogs turning in his head. “Officer Murphy…before I start, can you answer a question for me?”

“Maybe.”

He flicked his gaze up at me. After a moment, I realized this entire time he hadn’t been looking into my eyes, but rather at my nose, or slightly above my brow. Hmm… “In your career, have you ever seen things you couldn’t exactly explain? Even to the best of your ability with logic and forensics and training? Things you might have told yourself were impossible? Things that don’t make sense?”

I opened my mouth, ready to rebuff him, but then I considered his questions. I considered the deadly serious expression on his face. I’d seen my share of suspects. I’d seen the professional liars and the conmen and the gangsters. I knew what honesty looked like, for the most part, or at the very least, when someone was yanking my chain.

Harry Dresden wasn’t.

So I closed my mouth, licked my lips, sat back in the booth, and thought it over. I poured over past cases I’d seen and hearsay from people on the force. After a minute or so, I slowly nodded. “Yes.”

His shoulders lowered a fraction of an inch, as if he’d been holding his breath. “Okay. There is…a world out there that the average person can’t see, or won’t see. It sounds ridiculous, but it’s true. It’s full of darkness and monsters and sometimes it intersects with the normal world. That’s where I operate. I try to make sure that those things out there don’t hurt the people in here. So does Nick.”

“What exactly are you, then?” I asked.

He offered me a sheepish, lopsided grin. It may or may not have been kind of cute. “A wizard.”

I sputtered, spilling a little coffee on my chin. “A _what?_ ”

“I’m a wizard,” he repeated, still serious.

I wiped my face with a napkin and fixed him with a skeptical stare. “A wizard who just happens to be named Harry?”

He blushed. Alright, that actually was pretty damn cute. “Look, to be fair, I was born before Rowling wrote the book, so I promise it’s not some kind of homage. It’s just a weird coincidence, alright?”

“Right,” I said, not hiding the disbelief. “So if you’re a wizard, why don’t you live in a penthouse somewhere and have a TV show devoted to you?”

“Because it’s not as lucrative as it sounds,” he said, frowning. “It’s not really a career choice. I have abilities that I was born with and I had people teach me how to use them.”

“And you choose to use them for this agency?”

He shrugged. “Seemed like the best option.”

I regarded him a little harder this time. He’d said it casually, but I could see he was hiding something underneath that tone. Self-deprecation, for sure, but there was more to it. I sipped my coffee and folded my hands.

“Let’s pretend for a second that I believe you,” I said. “Let’s pretend that there really was a troll that you and I… _stopped_ last night. What else is out there?”

“A lot,” he said frankly. “And if there is a God, you won’t see half of it.”

I finally frowned. “I think God has better sense than that. If there are things out there as bad as that troll—”

“ _Worse_ than that troll,” Harry whispered, his soft brown eyes suddenly turning distant. “A thousand times worse, Murphy.”

I stiffened, surprised. “What does worse than that even look like?”

He shuddered and gripped the coffee cup. “You don’t want to know.”

“I do,” I said, narrowing my eyes. “That’s why I called you, Dresden. It wasn’t some kind of coincidence that we met the way we did last night. I’ve stumbled into something. We might both be dead right now if we hadn’t met on that bridge. I don’t want that to happen again. I don’t want to see another corpse on the streets that I could have prevented because I didn’t know any better. I wear this badge so that I can protect people. If you are who you say you are, then you know that you are obligated to help me.”

He sat back in his seat, still staring at me, his mouth in a thin line, his brow furrowed. I realized that he was… _worried_. About me, someone he’d just met. A freaking police officer he’d just met, no less. Anger made my skin flush for a second, but I brushed it aside.

“Murphy, I don’t know how much good it’ll do you to see the things that I know are out there—”

“Do I look like a child to you, Dresden?” I murmured, pinning him down with my gaze. He still wouldn’t meet mine, and it frustrated the hell out of me. “Do you think I got to where I am by people protecting me? I can hold my own. I can handle it.”

“I don’t doubt that you’re capable,” he said softly. “But it’s incredibly dangerous to know the kinds of things that are out there. Once you look into that darkness, it… _changes_ you. Most of the time for the worse.”

I scowled. “Then let me make that choice myself.”

Something weary slid into his features. “It could get you killed, Karrin.”

For a second, the coffee shop fell away. The happy twenty-somethings chatting, the old folks murmuring to each other, the distant sound of sirens, the honk of car horns, all of it. For the first time, I really saw Harry Dresden sitting across from me. Sure, he had an annoying chivalric streak a mile wide that made me want to drop-kick him into the river. Sure, he was probably a few bricks shy of a load. Sure, he was trying to scare me off for whatever reason, but…in that instant, I knew he meant every word he’d just said to me. If he told me what was out there, I could die. Not from neglect or stupidity, but because I would make myself known to the monsters like that one on the bridge. If I knew about them, I could become a target. I could become something to eat. Something to chase. Something to destroy.

A sane person would have finished their coffee and gone about their business. There were plenty of people that I could still help if I didn’t know about the world behind the world.

Instead, a slow, defiant smile crossed my lips. “Let ‘em try.”

Harry Dresden stared at my nose, sighed, and then slowly matched my smile. “I’ll give you one thing, Murphy. You’ve got one hell of a game face.”

I let something slightly wicked slip into my voice then as he took his next sip of coffee. “I bet you say that to all the girls.”

He choked. I didn’t quite giggle, but the sound tickled my throat. He coughed, his cheeks a little flushed, and I decided it was a good look for him. He wiped his mouth and tried to regain an iota of dignity.

“Alright, if you want in, then you’re going to need this.” He produced a card from his pocket. It had his name and the address to his office. “If you find something out there that isn’t your normal fare, I can help.”

I eyed him. “Help how?”

“Advice. I’m a stone’s throw away from getting my P.I. license, too, so hopefully the next time we meet, you can legitimately hire me.”

I snorted, pocketing the card. “How do I know you’re any good?”

The sparkle returned to his eyes. “Well, I did save your life last night.”

I scowled. “After I saved yours.”

He grinned. “Almost sounds romantic when you put it that way.”

I rolled my eyes. “You’re barking up the wrong tree, Dresden.”

“Woof,” he said cheerfully. “But you’re right. Strictly business. I’m nothing if not professional.”

“Uh-huh,” I said flatly. “So tell me something, Dresden. This whole time we’ve been sitting here, you haven’t once looked into my eyes for more than a second. Doesn’t seem very professional.”

His grin faded a bit. “Ah. Well, there’s something called a Soul Gaze.”

I stared. “A Soul Gaze?”

He nodded gravely. “It happens when a wizard looks into anyone’s eyes for more than a few seconds. It imprints an image of the person’s soul into their memories. Forever. For both parties involved.”

There was no trace of humor in his voice. Either he was completely off his rocker or it was as real as the troll on the bridge had been. He believed it with utter conviction, and it didn’t strike me as a lie.

“Afraid of what you’ll see?” I asked quietly.

“No,” he said, and there was something wounded and broken in his tone. “Not sure you’ll like what you see in mine.”

After a moment, he offered me that soft, cautious smile again. “Besides, I thought it would be kind of rude to do that on a first date.”

I rolled my eyes again. I got the feeling I’d be doing that a lot around him. “You wish, Dresden.”

I checked my watch. “I’ve got to get going.”

“Is this the part where you tell me not to leave town?”

I downed the rest of my coffee. “You’d never make my life that easy.”

He laughed. It was pleasant. I wanted to smile after I heard it, but I didn’t.

We walked out. He let me open the door again, still laughing at me with his brown eyes. I peered up into his face and felt something in my gut click into place for good.

“Stay out of trouble, Mr. Dresden,” I said over the cacophony of Chicago’s many sounds. “I can’t hire you if you get smushed by a troll.”

He winked at me. “I’d never inconvenience a lady that way.”

I smiled fiercely. “Call me ‘lady’ again and I’ll handcuff you to a fire hydrant.”

The wizard laughed and saluted me before he turned to disappear down the street. “Until next time, officer.”

I watched him walk until he hailed a cab and disappeared inside it.

Yep.

My life just got _so_ much weirder.

FIN

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LALALALA WHY IS IT SO MUCH EASIER TO WRITE HARRIKARRI TRASH THAN TO WRITE MY OWN FUCKING NOVEL LALALALA.
> 
> *dies*


	16. Kiss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first time we see Harry and Murphy kiss is in Proven Guilty, but that's not the first time they've ever kissed.
> 
> aka Three Kisses Before Proven Guilty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can we just acknowledge how ridiculous it is that Harry kisses Murphy on the mouth in Proven Guilty and it is given no fanfare or special attention even though it's the first time we see them kiss? Even if it was just a kiss out of excitement and happiness? That got me thinking that maaaaaybe that's not the actual first kiss for them in general and this is the result of said thoughts. Enjoy.

_You don't have to be rich to be my girl_

_You don't have to be cool to rule my world_

_Ain't no particular sign_

_Or compatible wit_

_I just want your extra time_

_And your kiss_

_-"Kiss" by Prince_

 

**#1:**

"How much further?" Murphy's voice, calm and even in his ears, almost made him jump since he'd been concentrating on the tracking spell so intently. He heard her shift behind him--a sweep of silken cloth and a light brush of her perfume. He pretended his head got light because it smelled good, not because _she_ smelled good, and she was wearing a dress and he couldn't believe it and he was never going to get used to how goddamn _good_ she looked in one--

"Not much," Harry said, watching the little Super Mario Ba-Bomb toy amble its way down the hotel hallway. "With any luck, we'll wrap this up before Letterman sta--"

Murphy darted in front of him, scooped up the toy, and shoved it in her pocket. "Murph, what the--"

She then grabbed two handfuls of his suit jacket and slammed him into the wall, jerking hard on the collar until his mouth met hers.

Harry Dresden was very, very confused.

Harry Dresden was also very, very okay with kissing Karrin Murphy.

At first, his brain had tried to offer him logic. _Well, there must be some reason why she kissed you. I mean, there's no chance she's interested in a quickie in this hallway while we're on a job._

Then, after about two seconds of her soft, sweet lips, his brain proceeded to delete every file in his mental shelves and began dancing drunkenly around a bonfire with a club in one hand. As a result, his thought patterns became a blurry stream of consciousness as his mental choo-choo started to derail.

_Wow. Wow, wow, wow, holy shit, stars and stones, if she doesn't stop kissing me I'm going to--_

Distantly, Harry heard a couple frat boys laughing and cat-calling a few rooms down before they opened the door and disappeared inside. Murphy tilted her head slightly, one sharp blue eagle-eye observing in case any of them ventured back out into the hall. She waited a moment or two, her lips still touching his, and then leaned back.

"Clear."

"Hmm?" Harry said blearily.

"We're clear," she repeated, placing the toy back on the carpet. "Keep going."

"What, uh, what was I doing again?" Harry slurred, absently scratching his hair as he tried to reboot his brain.

Murphy calmly arched an eyebrow. Harry cleared his throat. "Oh, right. Finding a murderer."

He switched his attention back to the toy. Unbeknownst to him, Murphy covered her mouth to stifle a triumphant giggle.

 

**#2:**

Murphy laid a hand on Harry's arm, her voice soft with sympathy. "You can't save them all, Harry. You're only human. You did your best."

"Yeah," he growled. "And it wasn't enough."

She squeezed. "Then make damn sure that they pay for it."

She checked her watch. "I have to go. Call me when you're ready. I'll help you take them down."

Harry offered her a weaker version of his usual smiles. "You say the nicest things sometimes, Murph."

She rolled her eyes and stood up. "You're welcome, Dresden."

She regarded him for a moment more, noticing the tension in his shoulders and the slightly wounded look in his eyes. She touched his shoulder and swooped down, intending to lay a kiss on his cheek.

"Oh, that reminds me--" Harry turned towards her.

Their lips met.

For just a couple of seconds, it wasn't...

It wasn't the worst thing that had ever happened to either of them.

Murphy's eyes widened and she straightened up, her breath catching in her throat. "Uh--"

"N-No, it was my fault," Harry stammered first before she could get a word out. "Sorry."

"Sorry," she agreed, brushing her hair back from her face. "Uh, what were you going to say?"

Harry opened his mouth, frowned, and closed it. "I'll...get back to you on that when I remember?"

She tried to suppress it, but a flood of heat washed over her cheeks. "Right. Bye, Harry."

He cleared his throat. "Yeah, bye, Murph."

She turned and strode quickly out of Mac's place, happy that the cold Chicago air helped cool her burning cheeks.

 

**#3:**

"Hey, Murph, Dresden's on his way up," Rawlins said as he passed by her at the vending machine.

"Great, thanks. Be there in a sec," she said, tucking her wallet in one pocket and holding the granola bar in her teeth. She got a bottled water next, paused, and then bought a Coke as well. She probably shouldn't have enabled his habit, but she knew it was losing battle to try to get Harry Dresden to eat and drink healthy. Especially not around the holidays.

He was already sitting in her office, his long legs splayed in front of him, as she approached. She stopped dead in the doorway as she saw what was perched atop his usual mop of dark hair.

"Seriously, Dresden?" Murphy asked, eyeing his Santa hat.

"Whaaaat?" Harry said, craning his neck. "Tis the season, Murph."

He then paused, his brown eyes widening. She frowned. "What?"

"Oh, come on, Rawlins, don't be that guy," Harry protested, staring behind her.

Murphy turned to see that Rawlins had snuck up behind her and tied a sprig of mistletoe above her doorway as she'd been standing there.

She sent him a filthy glare. "Oh, get bent."

Rawlins chortled. "Like the man said, Murphy. Tis the season."

"I am not--"

"Well, would you look at that!" Rawlins announced to the bull pen. "Look who got caught under the mistletoe."

Murphy shut her eyes. "He did not just--"

"Oh, he did," Harry said, wincing as the other officers came running and peeking into her door.

"No," Murphy snarled. It was a good snarl. Criminals would have fled before it. Hell, any sane person would have, but unfortunately she was surrounded by her coworkers, who weren't the least bit afraid of her by now. "Forget it."

"It's Christmas, Murphy," Rawlins said, crossing his arms. "You gotta. Don't want to let baby Jesus down."

"This isn't even his holiday, technically," Harry said, but by then, the entire office had begun to chant, "Kiss! Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!"

"You're all fired! Every last one of you!" Murphy growled, but the chanting just got louder.

Harry sighed and shook his head. "Look, we don't have all night. Maybe we should just humor them."

She eyed him. "You'd like that, wouldn't you?"

Harry eyed her right back, and then a rare flirtatious smirk slid over his mouth. "Like you wouldn't."

"Excuse me?"

Harry shrugged. "I mean, if it's too much of a challenge for you, Murphy, I understand. I am devastatingly handsome--"

Murphy slapped the snacks down on her desk, grabbed the wizard by the lapels, and kissed the living daylights out of him.

The office walls shook with the roaring cheers from her cohorts.

Murphy had intended for the kiss to be a couple seconds, but Harry had obviously just had some coffee and his lips were soft and she really did like coffee a lot, especially with the hint of peppermint she was detecting. Wait. How could she taste the peppermint unless she--oh my, her tongue was in his mouth and his was in hers and wow this kiss tasted better than it was supposed to for a Christmas joke--

Murphy let him go and then sent a hateful glare at the people crowding her doorway. "There. Now get back to work!"

They howled with laughter and Rawlins winked before they dispersed. Murphy stepped around to her desk, muttering insults under her breath. She sat down and sighed. "Damn holiday."

"Yep," Harry said, fumbling a bit to sit down thanks to his weak knees. "Damn holiday."

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had way too much fun writing these and I regret nothing.
> 
> *does a Triple Lindy into the Harry/Murphy trashpile*


	17. Possessives

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Murphy's grammatical slip-up speaks volumes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short and sweet. I've had this idea lingering in my head for ages. Particularly that scene in Skin Game where Murphy confronts Nicodemus over Harry is what has always made this a headcanon of mine.

"What gave me away?" the suspect grumbled from face down on the floor where Murphy had pinned him. Her knee dug into his spine as she cuffed him and briefly checked his pockets to ensure he didn't have any weapons on him.

"Lots of things," she said, standing and nodding to Harry that she'd secured him.

"Don't take it too hard," Harry said, smiling at the floored criminal. "Murph's been at this a long time. She had you dead to rights about twenty minutes ago."

The suspect scowled. "Then why'd you bodyslam me?"

Murphy narrowed her blue eyes at him, pausing in her dialing for backup. "Because you put your damn hands on my wizard, that's why."

She turned her back on the pair and walked away, calling it in. Within ten minutes, someone arrived and carted the guy off. Murphy drove Harry back to his apartment.

"Alright, what's with the look?" Murphy asked mildly.

"Look?" Harry echoed.

"Yeah. You've got a look."

"Want to be more specific?"

She smirked. "The one you get when you're all flustered. Did I miss something?"

Harry coughed and fiddled with his hands, fidgeting in his seat. "Uh. Sort of."

She glanced at him. He wouldn't look at her and he was blushing. "Which was?"

Harry cleared his throat. "You, uh, you said my."

"My what?"

He blushed harder. "You, uh, you said 'my wizard' earlier."

Murphy paled. "Wait. No, I didn't."

Harry offered her a sheepish look. "Yeah, you did."

Murphy returned her gaze to the road. Awkward silence filled the car. She forced herself to recall the moments before and ran the scene through her head. Then she started blushing too.

"We don't need to talk about it," Harry said gently, as if he could feel the embarrassment climbing to stifling levels in the car. "But it did...happen."

"Yeah," she sighed. "I guess it did."

They rode in silence until she reached the sidewalk outside of his apartment. She put the car in park and killed the engine. Harry unbuckled his seatbelt, but didn't get out.

"I guess," Murphy said carefully, licking her lips. "I don't like seeing anyone threaten you anymore than you do."

"That's not a bad thing."

"No, it isn't," she agreed. "I just didn't realize how strong the impulse was."

"Me neither." He grinned. "I'm awful flattered, Murph."

She glared. "Doesn't mean I can't kill you myself, you know."

He held up his hands. "Hey, that's your right. I am _your_ wizard."

She punched him in the arm while he laughed. "Get out of my car, Harry."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Seriously, I am shocked this hasn't happened in-canon yet. Murphy owns that man body and soul. Fuck with him at your own peril. She will cut you.
> 
> And vice versa.
> 
> Also, flustered!Harry is the best Harry.


	18. Reflections

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A mirror image of Harry and Murphy from the multiverse theory.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So.
> 
> A few Dresdenites had recently been discussing the unlimited possibilities of Mirror Mirror, the novel after Peace Talks, and this one sort of leapt into my head from out of nowhere. We know that the idea is the characters flipped to the other side of the coin. That can go down in about a thousand different ways, but one of the ways that jumped out at me was this premise: where Harry is still a P.I. but he does it for the money and isn't conscientious of his clientele or of openly breaking the law for his own gain, and Murphy and Marcone switched places, so she's a mob boss and he's a detective. I decided to still keep in the tradition that Harry and Murphy interacted and, well, uh, something happened so...
> 
> Warning?

He hates coming to see her.

Granted, by now, her goons recognize him. They give him the usual pat-down and confiscate his revolver, blasting rod, and staff. They don't bother with the threats anymore, since they know what he's capable of, and to be frank, it wouldn't matter if they tried anyhow. He'd Fuego them right off the face of the earth if they tried anything stupid.

So it's not the guards or the pretentious office building that has too many windows for his liking. It's not the thousand-dollar coffee machine in the "lobby." It's not even the cold, strategically good-looking secretary that greets him and lets him know when she's ready to see him.

He opens the door. She's facing the window, staring out at the cold Chicago streets gently draped in a layer of frost. He shuts the door. She lifts a whiskey glass to her lips and takes a sip.

"Mister Dresden."

"Dame Murphy," he replies, inclining his head slightly in a mocking gesture.

He sees a thin smile touch her pink lips in the reflection. "Care for a drink?"

Harry weighs it in his mind. "Sure, why not."

She turns. As always, she's dressed immaculately in a white button-up with thin grey stripes running down its length--it even had little cuff links the same wintry blue as her eyes--and high-waisted grey slacks that conformed to the shapely curves of her thighs but fluttered loosely around her calves, only hinting at the power and precision in her stature. She has a faint amount of eye shadow and eye liner on, enough to make the blue of her eyes stand out stark against her creamy complexion. Her blonde hair has been set in elegant pin curls, harkening to the 1940's era. It reminds him of those beauties of black-and-white celluloid, or maybe the badass female agent from that Marvel show that people had been so fond of in recent years. The diamond studs in her ears are real. He'd heard something about a heist of Hades' vault a few years ago and had a sneaking suspicion it might have been one of the spoils. Her perfume is always lightly applied and smells wondrous enough to make a man's mouth water.

Heels click as she walks over to her wet bar and pours him a drink. Her lean body forms a lovely curve, but he doesn't indulge in paying attention to it. He'd learned long ago to keep his eyes on the prize. Murphy didn't tolerate long looks.

She hands him the glass. He lifts it in her direction. She mirrors him. They drink.

"To what do I owe the pleasure of your company, Mister Dresden?" she asks, her voice as smooth as the whiskey sliding down his throat.

"Business, as always," he replies.

"Naturally. I assume it must be quite some obstacle to force you to endure a meeting with me."

He offers her a thin, perfunctory smile. "I don't know what you're talking about, Murphy. I adore you."

She grins. "You'll have me blushing soon."

He snorts. "It's Marcone again."

She nods. "Ah, yes. The ambitious detective. What's he done this time?"

"Nothing yet. I've got a client who needs something done quickly and quietly, but it's in Marcone's jurisdiction. If it kicks up dust, he'll come after me. I need a distraction. Find something to occupy his attention until I've resolved the case."

"I see." She sips again. "What's my incentive?"

"This is a lucrative case with an even more lucrative client. I can set up a meeting and give you the referral to see if they're interested in your organization. Might open some doors for you."

She tilts her head. "Do I look like the kind of woman who needs doors opened for her?"

He grins wider. "No, but guys should be doing it for you anyway."

She rolls her eyes. He chuckles before continuing. "They're paying me twice my normal fee. That gives you an idea of the kind of profit you might be able to set up with them."

She eyes him for a bit and then walks around to her desk. She lifts a pen over her pad. "Date and time."

"Thursday, around three o'clock in the afternoon. Keep him away from Michigan Avenue."

She scribbles something. It's illegible, from what he can tell. It wouldn't surprise him if she'd worked out her own secret code. Being a mob boss means keeping things to yourself, since there's always someone younger and hungrier coming up the stairs behind you, eager to throw you down to snap your neck. Then again, maybe she just has bad handwriting.

"I will expect the contact information for your client by Friday morning," Murphy says, flicking her cold gaze up at him. "Do we understand each other, Mister Dresden?"

"Of course. Should I deliver it in person or would a phone call do the trick?"

She smiles again and steps around her desk, setting her drink aside and leaning against her desk's suspiciously clear, polished surface.

"Is there some reason you would prefer not to be in my presence, Dresden?"

He stands and puts his drink down as well, towering over her with a smirk. "Can't think of one, no."

She doesn't back down. Their size difference is nearly comical. He could wrap his whole hand around her neck. Not that it would do him much good--she was a black belt and could break his arm in eleven different places before he even had the chance to squeeze.

He doesn't flinch when she grabs him by the lapels of his duster and yanks him all the way down to those soft, soft lips. That's his cue. It's always his cue.

He coils his arms around her waist, sliding his hands down over her ass, drawing a sharp gasp from her throat. He jerks upward in a quick gesture and her athletic legs wind about his waist as he lifts her, aiming for the desk. He presses her down into it and ravages her mouth, his tongue swiping and circling hers, his teeth nipping her lower lip. She shoves the duster from his shoulders and gets to work on unbuttoning his shirt, clawing at his chest hard enough to leave angry red trails in her wake. His hands find her collar and pop the buttons loose as he tears the shirt open. The bra looks expensive. Part of him laughs vindictively as he shreds it and locks one mouth onto her right breast. She shudders and arches her body up into him, gripping his back with bruising strength as he licks the nipple and bites down enough to leave a mark. He gives her left breast the same quick, dirty treatment and all but rips her pants off of those gorgeous legs, sliding them down to tangle with her pumps. She kicks them off and he rakes the panties away, exhaling hotly as her bare, flushed body presents itself to him.

She doesn't whimper when his mouth envelops her wet, aching entrance. Murphy doesn't whimper. Murphy _purrs_. He adores it. She locks her legs around his neck and buries both hands in his dark hair and just lets go of everything for a few minutes while he pleasures her. It doesn't take long before she's unraveling in his arms and he keeps her pinned there to the desk, his tongue plunging deeper, until at last a strangled moan escapes her and he feels her shaking from head to toe in an undeniably powerful orgasm.

He rises, licking his lips clean, and finishes undoing his own shirt, his brown eyes all for her as she lies there somewhere between heaven and hell, her eyes half-lidded and alight with lust as he undoes his belt and the button to his pants. He likes that look. It's possibly the only honest thing about her.

She's deliciously wet and damn near painfully tight as he slips into her, propping her legs up on his shoulders because he's too tall for standard missionary. Her spine arches. She claws at his forearms. It hurts, but it's worth it for the way she tilts her head back and bites her lip to keep from moaning. He grins. She's the kind of woman who always has the upperhand, but here, she can't. He won't let her. He knows this part of her like the back of his hand. She can't hide it. She needs him, needs _this_. She can't be this way with anyone but him.

He leans in, his palms flat to the desk, forcing her lower body to tilt until he can just barely catch a glimpse of her lovely little ass. Then he fucks her. He fucks her slowly at first, drawing it out, teasing, hinting at greater pleasure, frustrating her for the hell of it. He knows he'll never get her to beg for it, not out loud, but he knows how to get her to that point without words. It's in the way she moans, the way she gasps, the way she rocks her hips up into his, the way she stares up at him with that wanton smirk just daring him to try it.

He speeds up. The result is magnificent. In between the heavy, wet slap of their flesh connecting, she makes tiny gasps that make him forget anything else in the universe, or hell, multiple universes, exists. He thrusts deeper into her tight channel and now he can hear himself groaning as well, his lanky body tensing above her, losing focus as their frantic rhythm tears into his concentration. He's drowning in her now, too far gone to think past anything except for the divine goddess trapped underneath him on her stupidly expensive desk. She feels too good. She feels like...paradise.

Her legs quiver. Her inner thighs tremble. She clings to the edge of the desk with both hands, her inner muscles rippling sweetly over his cock. She bites her lip again, but it's much too late. He has her now. She's his. He rolls his hips at the end of every thrust, his pelvis digging hard into her clit, and at long last, he's rewarded.

"Dresden...God... _Harry!_ "

She convulses. She comes. It escapes description how utterly beautiful it looks. Every pretense of power and greed melts away from her countenance. She's just a woman now. She's strong and vibrant and complicated.

And he hates that this is the only place he gets to see that from her.

She only calls him Harry when they fuck.

He's not far behind her. It's too much to see such a captivating display of femininity. He wishes it could go on longer, but he's bursting at the seams with pent up frustration and longing. Sweat pours off his skin as he fucks her through her orgasm and barrels straight into his own. She shivers and moans harder as she feels him coming inside her. That had always surprised him. The first time it happened, he'd just assumed their arrangement was simply for her own benefit. Murphy didn't meet many men she felt were worthy of her time. They'd butted heads and tried to kill each other more than once, both directly and indirectly, and yet somehow she genuinely enjoys watching him come. He knows the difference--knows when a woman is faking it just to please his ego--but she isn't. She likes it.

And he's not sure what that means.

He pushes her legs off his shoulders and collapses to the desk on his elbows, trying to catch his breath. She doesn't shove him away. She lies there, sweaty and mussed, still smelling tempting, her skin rosy in the pale light of the Chicago winter skies. Forgetting himself, he plants a kiss below her ear. She shivers. He files the thought away for later and straightens up after he can breath normally again.

He gets to enjoy just a moment more of a nude, satisfied Murphy before she slides off her desk and walks over to the door on her left, going inside. Private bathroom. He hears the sink running. She appears with a wet washcloth and tosses it to him to sort himself out.

"Will that be all, Mister Dresden?" she asks, one hand on the doorknob, gloriously naked, and somehow just as professional as she had been when he opened the door.

"It will, Dame Murphy," he answers.

She shuts the door behind her. He leaves and doesn't look back.

FIN

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, this is a Harry/Murphy focused idea. I actually have like a billion scenarios in my head for the Mirror Mirror premise: Harry taking Lash's offer, Harry taking Nicodemus' offer, Harry being a warlock like DuMorne intended, and don't get me started on what could possibly happen to our darling Murphy. The reason this piece turned into, uh, a lemon basically, is because I thought about the fact that if this was the opposite of the relationship we know, then the two of them WOULD be having sex simply for physical gratification, since the reason they've held off in the canon version this long is because they love each other and don't want to wreck their friendship. I thought it was worth exploring what it would be like if they were in a physical relationship with no friendship to be had, and I honestly think it would still impact Harry and Murphy in an important way. 
> 
> But again, what do I know? I'm in the trashpile and there's no way out. I hope this wasn't total shit. *hides inside an egg carton in her garbage pile*


	19. 100 Days, 100 Nights

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two missing scenes between Harry Dresden and one of the only people on earth who knows Karrin Murphy as well as he does--her mother, Marion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I guess unemployment is good for one thing--making me write a shitload of HarriKarri in a short amount of time. *pained laughter*
> 
> Anyway, these two companion pieces came about through the usual--me hanging out with a fellow Dresdenite and realizing that I'd like to see more of Murphy's family, especially her mother. The first piece takes place after Blood Rites but before Dead Beat. The second piece takes place after Skin Game. Just an examination of the relationship from the outside looking in. I think there's a lot to unpack there, honestly. Especially how the relationship has changed between Blood Rites and Skin Game.

_"One hundred days, one hundred nights, to know a man's heart_  
_And a little more before he knows his own..."_  
_-"100 Days, 100 Nights" by Sharon Jones and the Dap Kings_

It was getting to become a pleasant routine to drive up to Murphy's house. That was probably a warning sign. I'd gotten used to the way it looked and the smell of the roses out front and the way her neighbors smiled knowingly at me--you assumptive bastards, get your minds out of the gutter--and how comfortable it felt to be there even when I was only here to ask for help. We didn't do friendly visits. Most of the time if she came to see me at my apartment, it was either to make sure I wasn't dead or because of a case. It would be too weird to do that in each other's homes. Too much like a...relationship, I guess. Mac's was safer. Then we could drink masterfully crafted beer and jokingly insult each other without things getting...weird.

Christ, I've been talking to Thomas way too much. Vampiric asshole.

Point being, I wasn't used to my ritualistic visits to see Murphy getting derailed by family issues.

Karrin answered the door with a scowl that made me take a step back. She could kill with a look, and I wanted to live long enough to see an eventual Star Wars sequel, so I cleared my throat and made sure to sound as innocent as possible. "Uh, hiya, Murph. Should I come back when you're in a better mood?"

"Don't you dare," she said, sighing. "You're my way out. Come in."

I arched an eyebrow as I walked inside. "Way out of what?"

"My mother decided to drop by," she growled, locking the door. "Unannounced. To discuss Lisa's wedding and why I should go."

"Christ," I said, and spun on my heel. "I'll come back later."

She grabbed the back of my duster. "Oh, no you don't. If I'm going down, I'm taking you with me."

I sighed. "Misery loves company. Alright, alright. I'd better get some coffee out of this."

She paused, arching an eyebrow. "Is that a euphemism for something?"

I grinned and waggled my eyebrows. "If you want it to be, dollface."

She punched me in the ribs. It hurt. It also made her smile, so I accepted the abuse and followed her into the den.

Marion Murphy sat on the couch, dressed rather primly, but the distress on her features said otherwise. To her credit, she brightened up as soon as I appeared, but I knew she and Karrin had certainly gotten into it before I arrived. Karrin's shoulders were tight with tension, so much so that I almost wanted to do something about it, but I valued my life and therefore didn't.

"Harry," Marion said brightly. "What a pleasant surprise."

"Same to you, Mrs. Murphy," I said, holding out my working hand. She shook it. "I'm sorry to interrupt, but I need Karrin to look at something for me."

"Oh, it's alright, dear, this was a spontaneous visit," she said. "I'm the one intruding."

I heard Karrin's kettle whistling. She headed for the kitchen, promising to return. I fidgeted for a moment and then sat down, dropping the file on Karrin's coffee table. Marion sat on the other end of the couch and folded her hands, smiling at me.

"How have you been, dear?"

"Surviving," I answered. I quite pointedly left my gloved hand in the pocket of my duster. I still hadn't really come up with an explanation that was palatable to the average normal person. "You?"

"Same, I'm afraid," she said, sighing. She glanced in the direction of the kitchen. "Sometimes I wish she hadn't inherited her father's stubbornness."

I snorted. "You and me both."

Her eyes twinkled fiercely for a second. I'd made her day by admitting that. Thank God Karrin wasn't in the vicinity. She'd have eviscerated me. Better make up for it.

"But," I added. "That's also what makes her such a great cop. She doesn't let go. She doesn't back down."

"I know. Sometimes our greatest strengths are our greatest weaknesses."

I lowered my voice a touch. "It's none of my business, ma'am, but...do you understand how hard it would be for her to go to Lisa's wedding?"

"I do," she said gravely. "And I think she feels like I just want to mend fences, but it's more than that. The way they ended things couldn't have gone worse. You're right. She doesn't let go. And I think putting things to rest at this wedding might help her. She doesn't have the best luck with relationships."

Her eyes sparkled again and dimples appeared in her cheeks as she smiled at me. "Present company excluded, of course."

I blushed. "Uh, I, uh, we're not--"

"I'm only teasing, Harry," she said, laughing lightly. "I got an inkling the two of you hadn't gotten there yet."

I blinked at her. "Yet?"

She gave me a very cryptic smile. "I know my daughter, Harry."

I opened my mouth to ask what the hell that had meant, but Murphy appeared with the blessed, much-needed coffee and I shut up in a hurry. She handed me a mug. She'd already added the cream and sugar, bless her. Maybe Murphy's mom was onto something after all.

"I don't know how long we'll be," Karrin said, handing her mother what smelled like oolong tea. "If you feel like waiting, I mean."

"I think," Marion said, standing. "I'll have a snack and hang out on the porch. If I'm done with it before you're through, I'll leave you to it. Fair enough?"

Karrin didn't quite scowl, but she nodded. "Fair enough."

Marion slipped into the kitchen, retrieved what look like some sugar cookies, and quietly headed out onto Murphy's front porch.

Karrin sighed and slumped down onto the couch beside me, pushing her fingers into her golden hair. I bumped her knee with mine so she'd look at me. "Need to vent?"

She smiled wearily. "Not much to say. Maybe just screaming."

"Well, that sort of thing can be arranged," I said with a wolfish grin. "We just have to get rid of your mother first."

She hit me. Again, the smile softened and I could see a little more of the pain in her blue eyes slip away. Wasn't good at a lot of things, but I could make jokes until the end of the world. And I'd do damn near anything to make her smile.

Shit. That sounded like a Thomas line.

"I'm sorry," I said gently a moment later. "This whole situation sucks."

"Yes," Karrin said, eyeing the front door. "It does."

"I won't play Devil's Advocate because this is none of my business, but I think she means well. I don't think she wants you there just to play nice. I think she feels like it might, you know...help?"

She frowned. "How would watching my baby sister marry the man I divorced help in any way?"

I shrugged. "Don't look at me. I have to check my underwear just to know what day it is. I don't know squat about mental health, but..."

I exhaled. "I don't know. Maybe give her a chance, if you can. She cares about you."

"I know she does. So do I. But I don't think I have it in me, Harry. I can't stand by and act like I'm fine with the wedding. I'm not. I'm really not."

I observed her obliquely. Her voice had quivered the tiniest bit. Cautiously, I ran my hand along her side up to her shoulder and squeezed it gently. She relaxed a little.

"Okay," I said. "Then let's get to work."

* * *

There were a lot of reasons why a man drove over to the house of the woman he loved.

My reason apparently involved weapons.

Ours was a strange love.

I probably shouldn't have had Feelings about the fact that I now had a key to Murphy's house--she'd lent me one before, but this was now My Key, and as I understand it, there is a massive difference--but I got fluttery Feelings in my stomach each time I parked, walked up the steps, and let myself in. Sure, I could count on one scarred hand how many romantic relationships I'd been in. Sure, it was a very progressive step in our relationship. Sure, Karrin could count on one (tiny, adorable) hand how many people she trusted enough to allow them to come and go from her home at will. But come on. I was the Winter Knight. I had slaughtered an entire race of vampires. One little hunk of metal shouldn't make me feel like there was a nest of wombats getting in a fight in my stomach every time I walked in. But it did.

And maybe that's not a bad thing, per se.

What was a bad thing was that I walked in on Karrin and her mother, Marion.

Both Murphy women glanced at me as soon as my boots hit the foyer. I blinked several times. Karrin had known I was coming. Boyfriend or not, I'd been raised to be a gentleman, and damn it, gentlemen didn't make unexpected house visits without informing their lady. Both of their faces were flushed, so my wombat-infested gut told me they'd been having a knock-down-drag-out before I walked in.

Karrin's posture had changed after her leg injury. She tended to shift her weight onto her stronger leg, using the hurt one like a kickstand almost, and yet she stood on both legs solidly with her hands curled nearly into fists. She looked startled by my presence, but I noticed her shoulders slumped the slightest bit and some of the tension slid out of her spine. She probably hadn't noticed, and hell, most of the time I wouldn't notice, but that was one thing the Winter mantle enhanced. My senses were far more finely tuned to everything, and especially Karrin. The mantle regarded her...strangely, I'd say. Half the time it acknowledged that she was a rather serious threat. The other half of the time it wanted me to throw her on the couch and do very improper things to her on the upholstery. Sorry. Lost the point there. Karrin's body language switched as soon as she saw me, and that also did something strange and warm to my chest.

Marion Murphy, however, had gone pale. I nearly cursed as I realized that she probably had no idea that I was alive if Karrin hadn't spoken to her for as long as I thought she hadn't. Sure, Harry. Just walk into Karrin's house and scare her mother half to death. That'll make it so much easier when you ask for her hand in--

"Uh," I said aloud after several painfully long seconds of awkward silence. "I-I can come back if you need time to--"

"No," Karrin said, waving me in. "It's okay, Harry. I'll grab the equipment for you."

I shut the door and locked it back, sliding the key in the pocket of my jeans. "It's okay, Murph. I can grab it so you don't have to--"

She silenced me with a glare that made half of me want to run screaming for the border and the other half uncomfortably aroused. Mind you, the second half was mostly the mantle. Mostly.

I held up my hands in surrender. "Yes, milady. I'll wait right here like a good boy."

Karrin rolled her eyes, gathered her crutches, and disappeared. I coughed and tried to look as harmless as possible as I slowly made my way into the den towards the shell-shocked Marion Murphy.

"Uh, hi, Mrs. Murphy," I said. "It's...been a while?"

She blinked a few more times, and to my alarm, I noticed tears in her eyes. She came forward and...

...and _hugged_ me.

I stood stock-still. Hadn't expected that.

"Oh, Harry," she said, sighing into my chest. "I'd heard you were...thank God. I don't care how or why, but I'm glad you're alright, dear."

I hugged her back, and my throat closed up a bit. She'd been kind to me when we met, but I hadn't seen her since the reunion all those years ago, and yet she was still this affectionate. It had been a long time since I'd felt that in my life, this kind of motherly concern. "Thank you, Mrs. Murphy."

She let me go, dabbing at her eyes and chuckling. "Oh, you stop that nonsense, young man. You will call me Marion and that's final."

I cleared my throat. "Yes, ma'am."

She glanced at the door, then at the direction Karrin had gone in, and then at me again, and her eyes flashed wickedly. "Besides, I think it's rather appropriate we're on a first-name basis seeing as you have a key."

I blushed and fidgeted. "It's not what it looks like--"

"Harry," she said patiently. "I was married to a cop. Don't treat me like I don't know any better."

Yep. She was a Murphy alright. Sharp as a whip and prickly as a porcupine when provoked. I nodded. "Yes, ma'am. Sorry, ma'am."

She smiled at me, shaking her head. Marion glanced at the way her daughter had gone and the smile faded a bit. "I must say, I feel rather selfish. I'm glad you're alright, but I'm even more glad how much better she looks with you around. Well, at least before I dropped by."

I winced. I knew Murphy had pretty much cut her family off after my death. She hadn't wanted to deal with the truth for the longest time, and it changed her. She'd kick my ass if I said anything about it, but I never stopped feeling guilty for causing a rift between them. After all, I'd stitched together my own little family after years of isolation, and Karrin had one this whole time that she chose to cut out of her life. She had reasons. Damn good reasons, most of them. But still. Family was family.

"I'm sorry," I whispered.

"You have nothing to be sorry for," Marion said gently. "We make our own choices. Karrin's a grown woman. She's made her choices."

"Did something happen?" I asked, worried.

"No," she said. "I just...she wouldn't return my calls. I found out through the grapevine--" _Rawlins_ , I thought immediately. "--that she was in the hospital. It was a short visit. I wanted to check on how she was recovering. I know she tends to downplay how she's feeling."

"It..." I licked my lips. "Didn't seem to be going well."

"It isn't," she said frankly, and sadly. "She's still not letting me in. She still resents what happened with Lisa and Rich. What I let happen, I suppose."

She seemed to draw herself up and harden a moment later. "But we've been silent long enough. Even if she just needs to yell at me, I need to talk to my daughter."

I glanced at the hallway, keeping my voice quiet. "If it makes you feel any better, she doesn't hate you. She just feels like it's easier for all of you if she just gets by on her own."

Marion nodded. "And she's always been like that. Just like her father."

She patted the front of her dress. "But you and I both know how that ended for him. I won't let it end that way for her."

Marion took a deep breath and faced me, her eyes like hard gemstones. "A long time ago, I asked you if you would take care of my daughter, Harry. Will you still do that for me?"

"Of course I will, ma'am."

She smiled and touched my cheek. "You are a darling. I can't thank you enough."

"Stay," I whispered. "Let me make you some tea. Don't leave it like this. She might listen."

Marion shook her head and lowered her hand. "She's not ready yet. But with you in her life now...I think maybe she will be someday."

She hugged me again. "Be safe, Harry. You're a good man. I hope you're both happy."

"Thank you, Marion."

She did that little motherly thing they all do when they're trying not to cry--fixing your collar, dusting your shoulders off, checking your cuffs--and smiled at me one more time before she left. My heart ached as the front door closed. I knew as soon as it shut that I was going to help the two of them fix this relationship.

Or die trying.

Again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I may end up writing a sequel to these two pieces. Dunno. We'll see. 
> 
> *cannonballs back into the HarriKarri trashpile*


	20. Home for the Holidays

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Murphy takes Harry home for the Thanksgiving holiday. It goes about as well as expected. Post Skin Game.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, the response I received from the previous chapter was quite positive! So I decided to write a semi-sequel to "100 Days, 100 Nights." Same continuity, but this story is less focused on Marion and Harry, and more focused on Murphy and her sister Lisa this time, but the pay off links back to the previous chapter. I admit I kind of actually caught some feelings off this one like I did in the last chapter. Like Harry, it doesn't take much to get me choked up over family, and I think it's a defining part of both our personalities.
> 
> To that end, please enjoy. This takes place some time after Skin Game.

There were plenty of situations in which both Karrin and I were nervous. Most of them involved coming up against some kind of supernatural beastie of unfairly proportioned power and we had a snowball's chance in hell to simply survive it, let alone to come out on top. We had. Together. And we would again and again until that unfortunate day when we found whatever was too much for us.

Apparently, Thanksgiving dinners had the same ability as titanic monsters to make us both nervous as hell.

Karrin took a deep breath and let it out slowly. I mirrored her. We stared at her mother's house from inside Karrin's car with matching looks of trepidation. It was a rare thing for us.

"I guess we should go in," she said.

"Guess we should."

She glanced aside at me. "You ready?"

"Nope," I said cheerfully, holding out my hand. "You?"

"Not even close." She took my hand. I wrapped my fingers around it and kissed her knuckles.

"Let's give 'em hell."

We lurched out of the car together. I went around back as she popped the trunk and picked up the lumber for the fireplace while she handled the last-minute groceries her mother had asked for--nothing major, just hot chocolate and apple cider for the post-Thanksgiving dinner period.

Marion Murphy's house was enormous and friendly. There were four hefty uncarved pumpkins sitting on the railing of the porch and a giant wreath of fall leaves stuck to the front door with a turkey in the middle. The driveway had been packed with cars and even as I walked up the stairs, I could hear the rumble of laughter and conversation inside. I swallowed hard as Murphy opened the door and announced our arrival. God help us both.

The scent of pumpkin spice hung in the air as I shut the door behind us and took a look around. I estimated the house to be about twice the size of Karrin's, and that was a conservative estimate. The foyer was enormous and the family room appeared to be on the right with the dining room on the left and the kitchen straight ahead. Placemats and dinnerware were already at the dining table, as it was about half an hour to dinnertime. A mixture of different smells hit me after the pumpkin spice candles: roasted chicken, yams, green beans, corn, ham, turkey, mashed potatoes and gravy, the works. My stomach quit trembling with nervous energy and instead rigorously insisted that I stomp right into the kitchen to gorge myself on Marion Murphy's inevitably delicious Thanksgiving spread. Bad manners, my stomach has.

Karrin led me to the kitchen where I found a team of women hard at work finishing up dinner. Marion Murphy had her hair up in a messy bun with an apron over her burgundy dress and her sleeves pushed up over her forearms. She was examining the turkey that had to be a former linebacker for the freaking Chicago Bears, it was so enormous. And golden brown and juicy and maybe I could just snap off a wing and book it before she whacked me with a wooden spoon--

"Karrie!" one of the women exclaimed, wiping her hands on a hand towel before enveloping Karrin in a hug. "Oh God, we were so afraid you wouldn't make it!"

Karrin hugged her. "Almost didn't, but our schedule cleared up at the last second. How are you?"

"Amazing," the relative said, rubbing her protruding pregnant belly. "This little monster's out of me in a month and I can't wait."

Karrin chuckled and gave her stomach a fond pat. "I bet you can't. Good to see you, Marlene."

She nodded towards me as she set the groceries on a small length of counter. "This is Harry."

Marlene was a few inches taller than Murphy and was maybe a couple years younger, but the family resemblance was uncanny in the nose and mouth, and in the soft golden color of her hair. She had it tied back in a braid and her hazel eyes widened as they tracked over me.

"Wait," she said, blinking at Karrin. "You mean Harry-Harry? _Your_ Harry?"

Karrin coughed, blushing slightly. She knew I was going to mess with her about that later. "That's him."

"Hi," I said, offering my hand, but Marlene bypassed it with a rib-cracking hug and an eager squeal. "I can't believe she finally brought you home to meet us! Welcome to the family, Harry!"

"Ah," I wheezed. "Thank you. Glad to be here."

She let me go. "Wow, what are you, like 6'8''? How on earth do you two kiss each other?"

It was my turn to blush then. Karrin gave me a death glare, but she wouldn't murder me with witnesses, so I had some leeway with my reply. "I carry a step-ladder around. It's in the trunk."

Marlene chuckled. Yeah, I was gonna pay for that later, but hey, you gotta live dangerously. "Smart man."

Marion had replaced the kaiju-sized turkey in the oven and shook her head, smiling fondly at me as she wiped her hands on her apron. "How are you, Harry?"

Her smile was infectious. "I'm great, Mrs. Murphy."

"Marion," she corrected, hugging me. "Always Marion."

"Sorry ma'am. I'll remember one of these days," I said, hugging her back. She turned with a hand on my shoulder and introduced me to the other three women, who were around her age and turned out were Murphy's aunts. They all gave me appraising looks and nudged each other, teasing Karrin about what took her so long to bring me home. Oh, the utterly embarrassing ways of going home for the holidays. But it wasn't all bad. I did manage to convince one of Karrin's aunts to let me have a piece of ham before I loped off to the den to drop off the firewood. Mmm, pork.

There was quite a ruckus coming from the den when we entered. Against the far wall near the fireplace was a little easel with some kind of shape drawn on it. A man in his twenties stood there acting something out that I couldn't decipher--and neither could the crowd around him, to my amusement--while Karrin's little sister Lisa stood by, rolling her eyes and holding what looked like a timer in her hand. Her eyes widened as she spotted Karrin, and then nearly bulged out of her skull as she spotted me. She hadn't gone white as a sheet, so I assumed her mother had told her that the reports of my death were greatly exaggerated, but she sure as hell hadn't expected me to show up. Some part of me warmed with secondhand vindictive enjoyment. Karrin and Lisa hadn't buried the hatchet and I took pleasure in throwing her younger sister off-balance. Sure, for Karrin's own good, I hoped she did straighten things out eventually, but until then, I was going to enjoy being a petty bastard on her behalf.

Rich sat on the love seat near Lisa and he actually choked on his beer as he saw the two of us walk in, spilling some on his Ralph Lauren polo. Ah. Now there was a reaction worth getting out of bed for.

The guy near the easel finished his turn and the crowd discussed how many points he'd won before addressing us. There were seven adults aside from Lisa and Rich--though those two hardly qualify as adults, to be honest--and four children, the youngest of which looked to be almost three years old. The sudden attention made me almost break out in flopsweat. I heard Murphy take a deep breath before she slapped on a smile for the group.

"Hey, guys. This is Harry."

Her family glanced at each other, a couple of them murmuring things, but they didn't seem horrified. "Wait, like _your_ Harry?"

I bit my lip to stifle a chuckle. Apparently, that was the theme of this family.

Karrin clenched her teeth, her cheeks reddening. "Yes, my Harry."

"Well, it's about damn time!" one of the older men chortled, rising with the rest of them. "Come on in here, son."

I shook hands and introduced myself to each of them personally, and then nearly got bowled over as one of the kids--maybe six years old--threw herself at my knees with a huge, friendly grin. She had dark blonde hair tied in twin pigtails and wore a little purple dress.

"Hi!"

"Oof," I said.

She made grabby hands at me. I glanced around for the corresponding adult that looked like her, and her mother giggled and nodded that it was fine, so I picked the kid up.

"You're tall," she said, looping her arms around my neck.

"Yeah, I ate my Wheaties growing up," I said. "What's your name?"

"Amanda."

"Nice to meet you, Amanda. I'm Harry."

She glanced down at Karrin and then back up at me. "Are you my new uncle?"

Thank God I hadn't been drinking anything; I'd be wearing it on my shirt right now. I cleared my throat. "Well, that's to be decided a little later. You can just call me Harry for now."

She pouted. "You don't want to be my uncle?"

 _Ow._ Kids, man. I sent Karrin a helpless look around the kid's shoulder and she jumped in. "Amanda, it's your mom's turn at Charades. You should get ready so you can guess."

"Yay!" Amanda said as I put her down. "I want Uncle Harry on my team!"

"Uh," I said as the small child dragged me towards the semi-circle of couches. She had quite a grip for such a little thing. Definitely a Murphy. "That's probably not a great idea, kiddo."

"You're on our team," she declared, as if it were an irrefutable law now. "Cause you're tall and if anybody cheats, you can beat them up."

The Murphy family howled at that. I shook my head and couldn't help smiling. "I guess I can't argue with that logic."

Rich had a sour expression as if he wanted to make a snide comment, but I focused on him for just a split second with a look that I usually reserved for monsters I was about to _Fuego_ out of existence and he kept whatever he'd been about to say to himself. It was probably the only smart thing I'd ever seen him do.

Fyi, I'm terrible at Charades. But it was still kind of fun. Murphy sat on the arm of the couch and watched me with a warm, amused smile that my insides feel weird and mushy. After my turn, the almost-three year old girl who had been tottering around the room on various people's laps decided mine was desirable and climbed up into it to take residence for the next half hour. Karrin got an...interesting look on her face when she noticed. I tried to meet her gaze, wanting to ask if something was wrong, but she didn't let me, instead focusing on the game. I filed it away for later.

Marion called us in for dinner not long afterward and we filtered into the dining room. Dinner was heavenly. It put everything I'd eaten in the previous year to shame. I ate six plates and didn't regret a single damn one of them.

Inevitably, someone asked about my job. I could tell some of them had seen me on Larry Fowler, but they were too polite to point it out. I gave them the most harmless version of my private investigator days that I could and it seemed to go over pretty well, though Rich still looked like he'd swallowed broken glass. It went rather smoothly until after we'd all eaten and someone broke out the wine.

"So," Lisa said around her Cabernet, her frozen eyes aimed at me. "You gonna pop the question any time soon?"

The entire room went dead silent.

"I mean, you're both not getting any younger," she continued with another airy, faux-innocent sip.

I took a slow, deep breath and counted to ten. The mantle had an answer for her. Several answers, in fact. Most of the time, it reacted specifically to threats, not simply things that irritated me. Threats to my physical person, threats to people I cared about or looked after, threats to my position as the Winter Knight, and the like. Rarely did it bother with nasty comments.

But something about Lisa got it riled up _just_ the right way.

I had the sudden image of her strewn across the beautiful oak table with my hand around her throat and the carving fork Marion had used to help slice the turkey hovering above her jugular. But of course, I'd never do a thing like that.

I'd hand the fork to Karrin.

The couple that slays together stays together, after all.

I felt a light frost form over the fork in my hand. The temperature in the room lowered by a few degrees. _Get it together, Harry._

I blew on my mashed potatoes and took a bite from the chilled fork, chewing thoughtfully and swallowing before finding a response that didn't involve an insult or premeditated murder.

"Age ain't nothin' but a number," I said, flicking a careless gaze at Lisa.

The acidic air that had filled the room dissipated. Her family visibly relaxed around me and some of them chuckled. From the corner of my eye, I saw Marion sigh in relief before she immediately took over leading a conversation on a different subject. Beside me, Karrin sat rigid with a deathly calm expression as she stared at Lisa. The kind of calm that usually preceded her pulling the trigger on her Sig. I reached out with my free hand and touched her knee, squeezing it gently. Slowly, she relaxed in her chair again. It had taken a lot out of her not launching something back at her sister in front of everyone. I could relate.

The family cleared the table and the women relocated into the den while the men set up an assembly line of washing and drying the dishes, as was apparently a Murphy clan tradition. I liked it. I rolled up my sleeves and helped one of Murphy's uncles wash while we chatted about different beers and bars we'd been to in Chicago.

But soon enough, my boyfriend senses went off.

Shut up. Those are _totally_ a thing.

I snuck past the family currently in the den watching _It's the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown_ and let my intuition lead me until I realized why my mental alarms had been going off. Karrin and Lisa were on the back porch in the pale light of the moon, and I could tell the entire evening had gone south in a hurry.

I couldn't hear them, but I could see Karrin pointing back inside the house towards the den while Lisa stood with her hands on her hips and her lip curled in a snarl. Oh, boy. I needed ten-thousand pounds of Anything But This right now.

I slid the glass door aside and caught the tail end of Karrin's statement.

"--had nothing to do with why I didn't come see you at the hospital and you know it!"

I cleared my throat. Both of their heads whipped around to face me. "Ladies," I said carefully. "It sounds like things are getting a little heated. Maybe you should bring it down a notch."

"Bite me, Larry," Lisa spat, rolling her eyes dismissively.

"His name," Karrin said slowly. "Is _Harry_. Call him that again and see what happens."

Karrin knew she couldn't hit her sister. I knew she couldn't hit her sister. But I still walked over and settled my hands on her shoulders to move her out of reach just in case.

"Karrin," I said softly. "Pretty sure the whole point of this holiday is not fighting."

"Yes," Lisa sneered. "Listen to Larry. It's getting a little late, Karrie. Run back home like you always do when you know you can't win a fight."

Karrin tensed under my hands. "You little--"

"Hey!" I barked. Both of them jerked in surprise. Well, I was in too deep to stop now. Might as well go for it before they banded together to kill me and hide my corpse inside another Godzilla-sized turkey.

"It's _Thanksgiving,_ " I growled. "Do you know how many people in this city are sitting out here in the cold, alone, without anything or anyone giving a damn about them? Both of you have a _great_ family. One you should be spending time with right now instead of sniping at each other about what you've done to one another in the past. I don't care who started it. Your family deserves better than this. You both know it. Especially your mother. If you want to go to the grave being pissed off at each other, hey, be my guest. No one's going to stop you. But until that time, act like civilized human beings and go back inside and be with the people who love you."

Lisa looked stunned. It made sense. She'd never heard a cross word out of me before, and I hadn't hidden my frustration this time. She darted a look at Karrin and then exhaled, muttering, "Fine" before she stepped back inside. Karrin folded her arms and pulled away from me. I sighed inwardly. Congratulations, Dresden. You just started one hell of a fight. On Thanksgiving, no less. Genius.

"Karrin," I said. "You know I'm right. Yeah, this is none of my business, but I care about you. You can't keep doing this to yourself, letting her get to you this way."

"It's not that simple, Harry," she murmured. "There's...a lot that you missed while you were...gone."

I came up to her side. "Okay. Tell me."

She glanced into the house again. "The little one who sat on your lap earlier, Amelia."

"Yeah?"

"That's Lisa's daughter."

My jaw dropped. "She and Rich--"

She nodded, still not looking at me. I did the math in my head. Almost three years old meant...

Lisa had gotten pregnant around the time I'd died.

"Fuck," I said hoarsely.

Karrin smiled weakly. "Yeah."

I touched her arm. "Karrin, why didn't you tell me?"

She shrugged. "You've had enough to deal with lately."

I shut my eyes for a second, clenching my teeth in sheer frustration. "Karrin, you can't keep doing this. Protecting me at the expense of yourself. Your sister having a baby around the time I died is a big deal. No wonder you two are so damned angry at each other. I know you can't tell them everything, but she needs to understand what you're going through."

She glanced up at me, her wintry eyes flashing in the darkness. "How can she, Harry? She's sheltered. She's been sheltered her whole life. She sees me as the mean older sister who won't let her have any fun, who's too busy for her, who's too important to spend time with her family."

"That doesn't mean you can't try. Look, I'm the last person to plead her case. She and Rich can both fuck off for all I care. But you know who I do care about? _You._ You are not okay and you keep forcing yourself to be okay because of me."

Something in her expression shattered then. "Harry..."

"I'm not blaming you," I said, cupping one side of her face. "You know that. I'd never do that. But I want this to be better. I want you to be happy. I want you to be able to come home for the holidays and not have to deal with shit from her or from him. I wasn't there for you when I should have been. I don't know what happened, so I want you to tell me. Maybe we can work it out and maybe we can't. Just let me try, Karrin. I want to understand this. Please?"

She shuddered and touched my hand where it lay against her cold cheek. "Okay."

I pressed my forehead to hers. We stood there in silence for a long while. Once I was sure she'd regained her composure, I got us both some apple cider and we dove into it together.

* * *

After the extended family left for the night, I asked Marion to come with me. She sat the Murphy girls in the master bedroom and forced them to talk it out. Rich and I had been ordered to stay in the den to watch TV and prevent exacerbating the problem. Men are good for that sort of thing, I understand.

Rich wisely kept his mouth shut for most of the time. I kept mine shut largely because it took a lot of concentration to summon a suppression spell so I wouldn't explode Marion's beautiful flat-screen television. I'd never forgive myself if it blew up. Fine piece of technology.

"Tell me something, wizard," Rich said around what had to have been his sixth beer of the evening.

I grunted in response. "How do you keep her so calm?"

I sent him an incredulous stare. "Seriously?"

Rich shrugged. "Just sayin'. You seem to have an...effect on her, I guess is the word. Karrin's a pistol. Always has been. I've never seen her like this."

"What?" I said, narrowing my eyes at him. "Compliant?"

"Happy."

"Gee," I said. "It's almost as if you respect a woman's needs and desires as well as who she is as a person, it makes her happy. Gasp."

Rich frowned at me. "And you think I didn't?"

"I don't think a single thing about you," I said, sipping my own beer. "That would require caring."

"Oh, I get it," he said slowly, as if something had dawned on him. "So you've gotten into her pants and all of the sudden you think you're hot shit."

I turned my head towards Rich very slowly.

Then I froze the beer bottle to his fingers.

"Shit!" he exclaimed as the condensation immediately hardened into ice. Nothing major. It hadn't been like _Infriga_. I'd simply manipulated the water to freezing temperatures. It would feel like sticking your hand inside a cooler full of sharp ice chips for a minute or two. Non-damaging. Just painful.

He hopped up and tried to shake it off, spilling some on himself and cursing while I watched pleasantly.

Rich finally worked out that he could run his hand under warm water to melt the ice away, but by then, the Murphy's had finished their chat and came into the den. Both wore neutral looks, but it was far better than what I had seen before. Lisa got her coat and left for the car without another word. Rich shot me a filthy, suspicious glare as he walked out to follow her. I just smirked and didn't say anything.

Murphy went to grab her own coat. Marion hugged me again.

"Thank you, Harry," she said, touching my cheek.

"My pleasure, Marion," I said. "Happy Thanksgiving. Thank you for inviting me."

"Anytime." She hugged Karrin next, wished her a happy Thanksgiving, and we left.

* * *

Thanksgiving in its entirety was a stressful ordeal, and had set Karrin off-balance, so I decided to add some counterweight.

In the form of really, _really_ good, acrobatic sex.

We both lay in her bed in the aftermath, completely exhausted, and completely content for once. After we cooled off, I tugged her closer and draped an arm around her so we were half-cuddling.

"You okay?" I asked softly.

She arched an eyebrow. "Well, you did almost throw my back out just now."

I chuckled. "Ah, not what I meant, Dodger McDodgeypants."

She pursed her lips at me, but after a moment or so, she nodded. "Yeah. I'm...better. Not good yet, but better, at least."

I kissed her. "Good. Thanks for taking me home for the holidays, Karrin. It...meant a lot to me."

She smiled. It was good and pure and I wanted to lay here forever looking at that smile. "We do crazy things for love."

"Damn right."

FIN

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have I mentioned the HarriKarri fandom is awesome? You're awesome. Super, super awesome. Thanks for reading and giving me all these infectious ideas, guys.


	21. Kiss (Part Two)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The three off-screen kisses before Proven Guilty...but from Murphy's perspective.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One of the Dresdenites asked me to do this and I think it's an excellent excuse to hop back into our badass avenging angel's head once again. Same continuity as the "Kiss" chapter. Enjoy!

_"It's this one thing ya did that so made me feel it_  
_It's this one thing ya did, whoa-oh-whoa-oh-oh!_  
_It's this one thing that caught me slippin'_  
_It's this one thing, don't want to admit it_  
_It's this one thing and I was so with it_  
_It's this one thing ya did, whoa-oh-whoa-oh-oh!"_

_-"1Thing" by Amerie_

 

**#1:**

"How much farther?" I asked the wizard stooping slightly as he followed the tiny plastic toy--I'd watched my little cousins playing Super Mario Bros before, and had a hunch I'd seen this thing on that game--with his usual focused concentration. He twitched slightly as if my voice had drawn him out his thoughts. Made sense. Harry got very intense when we were out on a mission, undercover or otherwise.

The hem of the dress swished against my bare calves and almost made me shiver. Ugh. Dresses. This one wasn't so bad, to be honest. It was soft and moved with my body as if it were part of my skin, but I still felt more...secure wearing pants. Dresden was luckier that way. Suits were restrictive, but you felt fully dressed in them. Not that I ever thought about him undressed. Well. Maybe once or twice when I'd had one too many beers with him at Mac's. Not my point.

"Not much," Harry said as the toy veered towards one definite direction. Finally. It had been torture watching the little thing totter around tied to Harry's tracking spell. The sooner we caught the murdering creep, the sooner I could kick off these damnable heels and call it a night.

"With any luck, we'll wrap this up before Letterman sta--"

My head snapped up as I heard the elevator ding and then heavy footsteps. Harry and I were both dressed as if we'd just gotten back from a nice dinner, but we looked incredibly conspicuous alone in this hallway hovering outside of people's doors. The stairwell was too far away. We couldn't make it without them seeing us. Standing here idle would still look about as suspicious. Time for Plan B.

Before Harry could finish the sentence, I snapped up the toy and tucked it in my pocket. "Murph, what the--"

I grabbed him by the lapels of his suit jacket, shoved him to the nearest wall, and yanked him down to my mouth.

Hypothetically speaking, I've "thought" about what it might be like to kiss Harry Dresden. Women do that sometimes. It's not an indication of attraction. Sometimes it's just pure curiosity. I've known Harry for years. I've gotten a pretty good look at him in his best and worst moments. I knew his habits, for the most part, and even the kind of women he was attracted to. There had been harmless flirting on both our parts because we were comfortable enough to tease each other without it leading anywhere. Harry was a not-so-closeted closet romantic. I knew it in the way he joked about opening doors and buying flowers and having candlelit dinners and slow, intimate back massages preceding nefarious behavior. Therefore, I'd formed a passing theory about the way he would kiss. The way he would taste.

I wasn't wrong often.

Tonight, I was dead wrong.

Naturally, Harry froze. He was confused. I hadn't had enough time to warn him. The men walked around the corner within sight distance of us about five seconds after I'd kissed him. _Damn it, Harry, loosen up or they're going to catch onto--_

_Oh my._

Harry's lips were soft. He'd shaved finally--a rare thing for him since he pretty much just barely scraped by on his bills and wasn't dating at the moment--mostly so he'd looked like he belonged in a four-star hotel with someone like me on his arm. My hypothetical musing had always thought about how it would feel with his stubble rubbing against my cheek, my chin, while we kissed. His skin was smoother than it looked. He'd put aftershave on, not too much like some men did accidentally. He smelled...nice, actually.

I didn't remember opening my mouth wider to his, but I could taste the coffee he'd had in my car before we came in. Cream, sugar, the bite of caffeine, a little of the chocolate doughnut he'd been munching on, and mm, now his arms were around my waist to hold me up enough to reach his lips and my heart beat faster and faster and I could feel his chest rumbling with pleasure and hear his deep voice as he groaned just the slightest bit into my mouth and if he didn't stop kissing me it was very likely my tongue was going to start doing things it shouldn't have been doing--

The men finished laughing and cat-calling at the two of us and went inside their hotel room.

I kept an eye on their door for a long moment, my lips still touching Harry's, breathing fast and light from the adrenaline rush and sudden light-headedness. They didn't come back out.

I let Harry go and said, "Clear." I put the toy back on the floor in the precise spot it had been in before our interruption. "Keep going."

Harry was still leaning against the wall, his pupils dilated, breathing hard, his voice deeper as he absently scratched his head. "What, uh, what was I doing again?"

I arched an eyebrow. He blinked several times and seemed to return to himself. "Oh, right. Finding a murderer."

He muttered to the toy and it sprang back to life as if nothing had happened. Behind him, I covered my mouth to suppress what absolutely was not a giggle. Don't give me that look. It's true.

**#2:**

_Stupid Harry turning your stupid face when I stupidly tried to give you a stupid comforting kiss on the stupid cheek you stupid wizard dammit why on earth did his lips have to be so soft I'm going to kill him--_

**#3:**

"Hey, Murph," Rawlins said as he passed me in the hallway. "Dresden's on his way up."

"Great, thanks. Be there in a sec." I stuck the granola bar I'd just collected from the vending machine between my teeth and shoved some coins in for the water bottle next. I then considered the machine for an extra second and shelled out a few more for a Coke. Because Harry always wanted a Coke, rain or shine. We'd have to discuss his coke habit eventually. Ba-dum-tssh.

Most people hated working the Christmas season. I didn't blame them. Christmas was supposed to be for happy memories, not murder and mayhem. I didn't mind taking the shift to let S.I. be with their loved ones. They worked hard. They'd earned that time. Plus, it gave me an excuse to avoid having to watch Lisa canoodling with Rich at my mother's house, at least for a little while. I'd eventually have to put in an appearance, but with Harry here, maybe I could dodge it since we had a case.

I started to walk into my office and stopped in the doorway as I spotted the gangly wizard sitting in the chair. He had a Santa hat on. What a dork.

"Seriously, Dresden?" I said with the utmost incredulity.

Harry turned his head with that usual goofy grin on his face. "Whaaaat? Tis the season, Murph."

His brown eyes snapped to behind me and slightly above my head. He paled. I frowned. "What?"

"Oh, come on, Rawlins, don't be that guy."

Confused, I turned and stepped back to see that Rawlins was right behind me.

And he'd just hung a sprig of freaking mistletoe over my doorway.

"Oh, get bent," I snarled, glaring daggers at the enormous shiteating grin sliding over Rawlins' mouth.

He chuckled. "Like the man said, Murphy. Tis the season."

I clenched the snacks in my hands. "I am not--"

Before I could get the rest of the words out, Rawlins turned to one side and practically bellowed into the rest of the bullpen. "Well, would you look at that! Look who got caught under the mistletoe."

I closed my eyes in disbelief. "He did not just--"

"Oh, he did," Harry confirmed as my coworkers trotted over to observe.

"No," I snapped with the utmost vehemence. "Forget it."

Rawlins crossed his arms and gave me a challenging look amidst the giggles from S.I. "It's Christmas, Murphy. You gotta. Don't want to let baby Jesus down."

"This isn't even his holiday, technically," Harry protested, but by then, someone had started up the obnoxious chant of "Kiss! Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!"

"You're all fired!" I spat. "Every last one of you!"

This seemed to spur them on. The chanting became deafening. I considered how many bullets I had in my clip and just how many years I'd get for murdering my entire staff.

Harry sighed and shook his head in resignation. "Look, we don't have all night. Maybe we should just humor them."

I sent him a sour look. "You'd like that, wouldn't you?"

He stared at me and then a flirtatious smirk slid over his lips. His brown eyes twinkled slightly with mischief as he didn't break my gaze. "Like you wouldn't."

I almost choked on air. "Excuse me?"

Harry gave me an exaggerated shrug. "I mean, if it's too much of a challenge for you, Murphy, I understand. I am devastatingly handsome--"

I dropped the snacks onto my desk. _Alright, you dumb wizard, you asked for it._

I caught two handfuls of his duster and jerked him down to my mouth.

Jesus, Mary, and Joseph.

I'd kissed Harry before, a long while ago, while on an undercover case. He'd been caught off-guard.

This time, he wasn't.

Maybe it was because he knew the exact sequence of words and situations to get me riled up, but Harry didn't let me have the upperhand this time. He kissed me back with the same kind of ferocity I met him, matching me perfectly, as if we'd entered into some ridiculous contest to see who could make the other person swoon and lose their composure first. I was Karrin Murphy. I didn't swoon. I was going to make this idiot wizard beg for mercy before I let him go for egging me on with the rest of the doofus brigade in my office.

Well.

It started out that way.

Before long, I couldn't hear the laughter and the chanting because the entire world shut itself out of my ears and all I could hear was the blood pounding through my head and Harry's barely audible groans of approval as my lips sealed onto his and we both started getting into it. Mm, he still tasted like coffee, but with a hint of peppermint this time, and his tongue was tracing circles around mine before going along my bottom lip and his lips were devouring mine and he was so tall and warm and firm and for just a second I wanted to shove him down on my desk and kick the door shut and climb him like a fucking tree--

I ripped my mouth from Harry's with what felt like titanic will power and glowered at my coworkers. "There. Now get back to work!"

The office practically burst open with laughter and they wandered off, guffawing heartily. Rawlins had the nerve to wink at me before he wandered off with his mistletoe.

I stomped over to my desk and plopped down, happy to take the weight off my legs. They were weak for some reason. Probably low blood sugar. Yep. Definitely that and nothing else.

"Damn holiday," I said with a sigh.

Harry stumbled into his chair as well, his cheeks flushed, a smile on his too-pink, too-soft lips.

"Yep. Damn holiday."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the record, tsundere!Murphy makes me really, really happy inside. 
> 
> "I LOOOOOVE TRASH! ANYTHING DIRTY OR DINGY OR DUSTY!" *decorates her cardboard box in the HarriKarri trashpile with Halloween junk*


	22. Broken

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Karrin Murphy gets a Denarian coin. Post Small Favor, pre Changes. AU.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's always been fascinating to me how strong Karrin Murphy is, and I don't mean physically. We've basically never seen her crack except in Skin Game when she threatens Nicodemus with the Sword. I wanted to write a little about her will power and why I think she seems on the surface level like a bad target for the Denarians, but then when you examine her a little deeper, you realize she could be a formidable force if she ever got one. Karrin's resistance to temptation pretty much defines her as a person, and so getting a coin unexpectedly could breed some really interesting results. However, I'm not trying to make this a full-blown AU that explores all aspects of the idea. I wrote this basically because I thought of some juicy scenes I've always wanted to see that are related to Murphy's personality and how she would handle something this traumatic and dangerous falling in her lap.

_"Maybe there's a God above_  
_And all I ever learned from love_  
_Was how to shoot at someone who outdrew you_  
_And it's not a cry you can hear at night_  
_It's not somebody who's seen the light_  
_It's a cold and it's a broken hallelujah_  
_Hallelujah, hallelujah, hallelujah, hallelujah..."_  
_-"Hallelujah" by Leonard Cohen_

Checking the mail as an adult was never a lot of fun. Mostly bills and frivolous ads. Half the time I wasn't home and so I came back inside with an armful of garbage. If it ever got too bad, my neighbors would put it in a stack rubberbanded together and leave it on my front porch. They were neat-nicks, but the gesture was kind enough.

I sipped my coffee as I rummaged through the current stack. I separated the relevant stuff from the trash until I reached a little envelope with nothing marked on it at all. Hmm...maybe a note from the neighbors trying to discreetly tell me something. They were awful non-confrontational.

I flipped it open and dumped it upside down. Something fell onto my palm.

A small, silver, battered coin.

Holy _fucking_ shit.

"Oh, _God_ ," I said hoarsely, staring wide-eyed as the coin sent a buzzing, hair-raising jolt of electricity through my entire body. Something cold and vast opened up inside my chest. No. This wasn't happening. Please, God, this had to be a nightmare. Wake up, Murphy!

I cast the coin onto the coffee table, scrambling away from it, but the center of my palm burned as if something had pressed a red-hot poker to the flesh of my hand. Voices whispered in my ear in a language I didn't understand. Fuck!

I stumbled over to the phone and dialed Harry's number by heart, panicking harder with every second that passed as it rang. "Pick up, pick up, God, please, Harry, _pick up_."

"Hello?"

"Harry!" I couldn't breathe. The whispering got louder, almost drowning out his reply.

"Murphy?" His voice got tighter with worry. "Murphy, talk to me, what's wrong?"

"House," I gasped out. I was hyperventilating. I gritted my teeth as I tried to slow my breathing, but my entire body shook with fear that one of those... _things_ was inside me now. "Now. Please, Harry. Hurry!"

"Karrin, stay with me. Are you alone?"

I shook my head. Too many voices. Too much noise. Had to shut it out. "Yes. No. Harry, they got to me."

"Who did?"

"Denarians."

" _Fuck_ ," he swore. "I'll be there as fast as I can." He hung up.

I dropped the phone and fell to my knees, gripping my head, my ears, as the voices got louder and louder until finally--

They stopped.

All I could hear was my panicked breaths. The burning in my left palm had stopped. I glanced at it. My fingers shook as I examined the sigil.

"Strong," a male voice purred from inches away.

I fell on my ass with a short cry of alarm as I spotted a man I'd never seen before standing in front of me. He was tall and olive-skinned with sharp avian features. His voice was flat and hard as concrete. He had a set of yellow-orange eyes burning above his brow, the sigil in my palm resting between them.

"Stronger than anticipated," the man continued, hands in his pockets. "Not what I expected out of one so fair."

I gritted my teeth and let my anger fill me to the brim. "Will I still be fair when I kick your ass?"

The man offered me a thin smile. "Even more so, Karrin Murphy."

I grabbed the edge of my foyer table and pushed to my feet, glaring daggers at the Denarian. "You think you can scare me because you know my name? Stronger things than you know my name, asshole. Know why? Because I've killed them. You have ten seconds to get out of my head before I do the same to you."

"Karrin," he said, clucking his tongue. "You know better. Your wizard has taught you better than that. It's not as simple as a monster that you swing a sword to kill. You touched my coin. Your life is mine. Mine is yours."

I shook my head. "I have to invite you in. I have to accept your offer. I'll die first, monster."

The Denarian snorted. "Well, we both knew that would be your initial response. Since you're so disapproving of monsters, that is."

I narrowed my eyes at him. "And what's that supposed to mean?"

He walked into my den, his creepy gaze rolling over my furniture and photo frames. "Well, for someone who hates monsters so much, you don't seem to have trouble associating with them on occasion. The wizard's brother, White Court vampire. The werewolves. To say nothing of what you've invited into your bed."

He glanced at me over his shoulder, smiling. "Kincaid, wasn't it?"

I felt a flush attempting to climb up my cheeks. "You're only a monster if you choose to be one."

"And you know this because of what you've seen? What you've fought? What your father fought before he took his own life?"

"Shut up!" I snarled. "You have nothing to offer me, demon. I stand against you. I stand for everything that isn't you. You will not break me. You will not make me doubt myself and the people I love."

"I'm not trying to," he said softly. "Karrin, it seems like destiny that my coin fell into your hands. How noble you are. One of the only beings to be worthy enough to wield a Sword. And yet you've never had to deal with this kind of temptation before. Power beyond your wildest dreams. The Sword gave you light and grace, but it comes with quite the price. Wield it incorrectly and it shatters. Your heart must be pure and your intentions must be holy."

He faced me then, his smile serpentine. "And how holy do you think you still are, Karrin? You've forsaken your family. You've been in the company of madmen and killers. Even the man you love has a list of indiscretions a mile long."

The Denarian shook his head. "No, Karrin, I don't want to offer you anything you don't want. It would be a fool's errand. You don't care about power. You only want to protect what's yours and protect the innocents around you. But how many of them die each day that you can't save? How many perish because you can't be everywhere at once? Don't you think that's why your father took his own life? He saw that the war was too great. The cost was more than he could bear. And what of your fate, Karrin? What if it becomes too much for you, the same as it was too much for him?"

My gun appeared in his hand. He examined the Sig as if it were a foreign object to him. "How long before you lose all hope and taste the barrel of your own gun?"

I shut my eyes and balled my hands into fists as his words tore at me. "Never. I would never do that."

"Never is a powerful word, Karrin," the demon continued, walking towards me. "A few years ago, you would never betray the law and do something illegal, and yet you have for your wizard. Never is a word that you shouldn't use, because there is always a better way. A better offer."

He lifted my arm and pressed the gun back into my hand. "We're going to be spending a lot of time together, Karrin. You won't see it now, but you will in time. As the years pass, you'll see that I have access to information that can help you protect your family, even the man you love. I can help you save this city so that no one in your unit has to make calls to the loved ones of victims that the monsters you hate so much leave in the streets like trash. In time...you'll understand."

I pressed the barrel to his forehead. "I don't want to understand. Get out."

He smirked. "As you wish."

My finger eased down on the trigger.

"Karrin!" Someone grabbed my hand just as the Sig went off. I blinked and found Harry in front of me. Oh God. When had he gotten here? Had...had he been talking to me the whole time?

"Karrin, it's me," Harry said carefully, one hand gripping my wrist tightly, holding it away from him. I blinked again and saw the hole I'd made in the doorway, probably only a few inches from where he'd been standing.

"Harry," I whispered. "Harry, it... _it's inside me_."

"Shh," he murmured, easing the gun out of my shaking fingers. He set it on the foyer table and wrapped his arms around me, stroking my hair. "It's okay. I've got you. I'm here."

I buried my face in Harry's chest, clutching his shirt. "Oh God, Harry. What are we going to do?"

"Whatever we have to," he told me. "I swear, Karrin. I'll do anything you need me to do."

I clung to him harder. He didn't let go.

Thank God for him.

* * *

Sometime later, I sat on the couch wrapped in a blanket, sipping my coffee and recounting what happened in exact detail to Harry. My voice came out blank and empty of all emotion. It was probably shock. Harry had called Butters just to check, and the little M.E. said I had a mild case and for Harry to keep an eye on me. Moot point. There was no chance Harry would leave my side for the foreseeable future.

Harry knew I didn't like to be touched when I was distraught, so he sat to my immediate right, close, but not too close. I knew him probably better than anyone. He was the kind to draw into himself when he'd gotten hurt or when he was afraid and so was I, but he knew when I needed something real and familiar and when I needed my own space. Right now was the latter, but I could see in his body language that he was trying his best not to touch me, if only to reassure me he was real.

I shuddered as I thought about the Denarian manipulating my senses so I couldn't see or hear Harry. I could have shot him. Killed him. Woke up to see my best friend lying on my foyer bleeding out. And it would have been my fault and my fault alone.

"I called Michael on the way here," Harry said quietly. "He's contacting Sanya. He's on mission, but he should be able to get here soon to help."

I shook my head. "They're holy warriors, not paid consultants, Harry. You can't expect them to drop everything for me. Michael's still recovering, for God's sake."

Harry's brown eyes flashed. "You've gone to bat for them, Murphy. They won't hesitate to help you get through this."

"I don't doubt that," I croaked. "But what happens to the people who need them while they're here fretting over me?"

Harry made an annoyed sound. "Possessed by a demon and you're still worrying about everyone but yourself."

I glared at him. "I can take care of myself, Harry. That's my point. I don't want innocent people to die while they're busy hovering over me."

Harry's jaw clenched. "Murphy, I care about you more than probably anyone on this planet, but you can be a real stubborn pain-in-the-ass when you want to be."

"And you can be a real bastard when you want to be," I shot back. "What's your point?"

"My point?" He stood and exhaled harshly, raking a hand through his already-tousled hair. "My _fucking_ point is that you're going to have to accept the fact that maybe for once you need help, Murphy. I had one of these things in my head for years. _Years_ , Murphy. It's not something you can shake off. You don't just soldier on and act like it's just a telemarketer or something. You're the queen of compartmentalizing things and that's what it's going to feed on if you're not careful. You have to face this, Karrin. You have to be willing to let someone else help you for a change."

I stood then. "And this is what I need? You calling me a pain-in-the-ass?"

"Yes! That's exactly what you need. Because you know what happens when you don't call people out on things? When you let things go unsaid for years at a time?" He stepped close to me, not backing down from my glare. "They become monsters. I could have gone that way, and I'm barely standing. I'll be goddamned if I let that happen to you because I didn't want to pick a fight."

My anger faltered for a second. We weren't talking about what I thought we were talking about. It...scared me a little to see Harry like this. Harry was always honest with me, but that didn't mean he didn't hold back sometimes. I could see it in his eyes when he wanted to say something and didn't. We'd had a lot of fights over the years. Big ones. This wasn't a fight he wanted to have with me, but he'd done it anyway because...

Because he was _afraid_ for me.

And anything that scared Harry Dresden was something that had earned that title a thousand times over.

He noticed the change in my expression and sighed, shivering slightly. He touched my shoulders and drew me close, leaning his forehead against mine. "Karrin, I...I _can't_ lose you to this thing. I won't. I don't care what I have to do, who I have to call, what I have to kill to stop it from taking you."

He touched my cheek, his hand large and warm and strong. "I know you're strong enough to beat this thing. You're stronger than me and you always have been. But you can't hide. You can't just build up your walls and avoid asking for help because you're scared. That's exactly what it wants you to do. That's why it tried to make you kill me by accident."

I almost laughed. "Because it knows you're so damned stubborn that you won't drop it?"

He almost laughed too. "Yeah. You told me once that between my head and a brick wall, the wall would break first. This is my brick wall, Murphy. Our brick wall. I don't care how mad you get at me. I'm not backing down and I'm not leaving your side until we put this son of a bitch to rest."

"Stubborn jackass," I whispered, my throat tight, my stupid eyes betraying me and filling with tears. He kissed my forehead. He kissed my lips. He held me until the doorbell rang and Thomas came in from the cold, his grey eyes burning with hellfire and determination just like his brother's.

And I was damned lucky to have them both in my life, monsters or not.

* * *

Once Harry and I had given Thomas the lowdown, he offered his advice, but then he did something rather odd.

He asked to speak to me alone.

Harry gave him a funny look, but he wandered off into my bedroom to fluff my pillows and look busy until we called him back in. I stared at Thomas as he sat across from me and folded his hands, fixing me with his intense gaze.

"I'm going to say some things that you're going to find..." He licked his lips. "Uncomfortable, but I want you to understand that they're absolutely necessary. Okay?"

I eyed him warily. "Okay."

Thomas sighed. "I'm a monster, Murphy. Have been all my life. I try to be better, to do better. Sometimes it works and sometimes it doesn't. One of the things that I have tried my best with is Justine. To do right by her. To protect her and treat her the way she deserves because I love her. It's not easy. It doesn't work out the way I wish that it would most of the time."

He took a deep breath. "The thing inside you isn't the same as what's inside me, but I understand the general principle. Monsters are monsters. Doesn't matter what kind."

His grey eyes narrowed slightly. "And this one knows that you're in love with Harry."

I groaned. "Thomas--"

He held up his hand. "Karrin, _stop it_."

I blinked at him. I couldn't remember if he'd called me that before. It was almost always Murphy since he and I were friends, but we weren't all that close. The firmness in his tone was alarming, since Thomas tried to keep everything between us as appropriate as he could, being an incubus. My first response to his suggestion that his brother and I should be an item wasn't long ago. I'd driven him home and he asked me about the relationship and why we hadn't pursued it. I gave him reasons. He nodded and seemed to let it drop for the time being.

"Monsters don't care about denial," Thomas said. "Period. If it's inside you, it knows you. Its purpose is to dig up every last secret hiding in your heart and figure out a way to make you say yes to it. Mine does the same thing every second of every day. Don't believe me? I can tell you right now that it's trying to convince me to tell you to give in so that you're just like me and then maybe I can feed off of you once you've gone full Dark Side."

I swallowed. Thomas had never been this open with me before. I knew he wasn't lying. I could feel it in my gut. He would never say such a thing out of respect for Harry, and that had been why he'd asked his brother to leave the room.

"I respect you more than almost anyone I know," he continued. "But the monster inside me doesn't care. It sees strength and flesh and beauty and it wants me to take it regardless of the consequences. The only reason I bring it up at all is that the Denarian is going to try to come at you sideways. It knows what is between you and Harry. It knows that the two of you have agreed not to act on your feelings. I know you think that doesn't have an impact on your daily life and your beliefs, but it does. It's going to tell you that if you give in, it will give you the power to protect Harry without needing a weapon. It's going to tell you that you can live forever and not have to worry about growing old and dying so that he won't live without you. It's going to tell you that it can make you the kind of woman he'll never want to leave because it knows about your ex-husbands and your relationships and it knows that deep down in your heart, you want Harry and you want to be with Harry because you love him."

He paused to let that sink in for a moment. "Karrin, I want you to consider something for me before we go any further. I want you to consider telling Harry that you love him. Don't get me wrong--he knows already, to some extent, but I think like a predator, and if I were the Denarian, that's the first thing I'd go after. It will do anything to get you to say yes. _Anything_ , Karrin. And I would hate to see something happen to you or to my brother because of it."

I licked my dry lips, mulling over what he'd told me. It was a lot to take in at once. "Why do you think it might help if I do that?"

"Because it would make it clear to the demon that you know better. It's listening right now. It's writing down a rebuttal to what I'm telling you. It's going to come up with a spectacular counter-argument, but I know better because I've lived it. Tell Harry the truth. Love is rare. True love is even rarer. But the two of you have something here that might be able to help you destroy this bastard without it taking something away from you that you can't ever get back. I know it's going to take time. I'm not asking you to go in there and do it right now. But just think about it. Will you do that for me, Karrin?"

Slowly, I nodded. His shoulders relaxed just a bit. "Thank you."

He got up from the couch and knelt in front of me, surprising me with a hug. Thomas hadn't ever hugged me before. Something warm bloomed in my chest.

"When we're done with this thing," the vampire said fiercely in my ear. "It's gonna be begging to go back to Hell."

I choked on a laugh. "Damn right."

Thomas smiled and called for Harry. The wizard came around the corner still looking slightly suspicious, but he hid it behind a lopsided grin and a joke.

"Gosh, Murph. You've got more black underwear than Marilyn Manson."

" _I swear to God_ , Harry."

* * *

After the Denarians came for me, after we'd won the day, after a year of filthy whispers in my ears at night, I told Harry I loved him in his dump of a car.

Well. No ever said I had good timing.

"I"ll check with Father Forthill tomorrow about the--"

"I love you," I whispered.

Harry stopped mid-sentence, his dark eyes wide. "What?"

I licked my lips, my heart rabbiting against my chest, a deep, furious male voice screaming in defeat as my clumsy mouth blurted it out again.

"I love you, Harry."

He swallowed hard. "I...Karrin, I...you know that I...of course I..."

I smiled, shaking my head, and kissed him silent. His lips were soft and warm. He cupped one side of my face, careful of the bruises next to my ear. It was a good kiss. I hadn't felt this liberated since before the coin. I wanted the world to fall away so that only this moment existed because it was that damn good. Should have told him a year ago, Murphy. You idiot.

I didn't remember unbuckling my seatbelt and climbing over into Harry's lap on the driver's side, but suddenly I was there and he was warm and he smelled like leather and mild cologne and his hands were underneath my shirt, his hot mouth on my throat, my hands pressing into his shoulders. It felt good. So, so good. So right.

Well, except for the part of being outside of my house where nosy neighbors could see.

My butt hit the steering wheel and a short horn blast snapped me out of it. We both looked at each other and laughed like two nervous teenagers. I traced the laugh lines in his mouth and near his eyes with my fingertips. My dumb wizard. Yeah. I liked the way that sounded. _Mine._

I kissed him gently. "It's freezing out. Come inside for coffee."

Harry grinned up at me. "That wasn't a request, huh?"

"Nope."

"Then I guess I can't say no."

-

We made love. Four times. It was better than even the Denarian's fantasies had pictured.

I wasn't much of a cuddler with past lovers, but Harry was terribly comfortable, bones and all. I folded myself into his chest and just lay there, listening to his heart beat in a slow, steady rhythm. I traced my finger over his bicep, over the ever-present silver necklace his mother had left him, calm and finally complete.

"Will you stay?" I asked him quietly.

Harry rubbed my bare shoulder and kissed the top of my head gently. "Always."

I smiled as I fell asleep, never better.

FIN

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I may come back to this idea. I want to ruminate on just what kind of deal the Denarian would try to offer Murphy that she would actually consider. In my mind, it would be similar to Harry's situation in White Night's amazing finale--he wouldn't try to talk her into it just in her daily life; he'd wait until her life and her friends' lives were in danger and he'd convince her it was the only way to save them. We'll see. 
> 
> God, I need to stop giving myself all these HarriKarri fics to write. @_@


	23. Of Grave Importance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the aftermath of Grave Peril, both Harry and Murphy are struggling to pull themselves out of a downward spiral. But maybe they can make it together. Pre-Summer Knight. Harry and Murphy POVs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a headcanon I've had for quite a while that I just now remembered. I think Summer Knight did a great job addressing the trauma that both Harry and Murphy went through from the events of Grave Peril, but this is just a little piece bouncing around in my head about the period of time before Summer Knight. I think it would have been too hard for Harry to have zero contact with Murph since the end of Grave Peril, so these are two scenes I imagined in the interim between GP and SK. Hopefully, they read well.

Karrin Murphy is not the kind of woman that a man checks up on.

Don't get me wrong--I don't mean that in a sexist kind of way. Men have this stupid thing we do because we're brought up in the old fashioned way of thought where we don't address traumatic, emotional turmoil with each other. We just grunt and punch things and drink alcohol and develop tumors in our brains from unconfessed feelings. Women have enough common sense to simply discuss things that bother them. Honestly, I envy them for it. I probably wouldn't be in the boat I'm in right now if I took that school of thinking to heart and just said when I was hurt or angry or scared instead of putting on a brave face and relegating it all into violent, vivid nightmares.

Karrin, however, either because of her career or because of her background with a cop for a father and being constantly underestimated for being small, blonde, and gorgeous, wasn't very forthcoming with her feelings. Sure, I'd been her friend long enough to pick up on them, but she and I made an unspoken agreement to treat each other like we were both in a Male Friendship. Therefore, no matter how troubled both of us got, we were only allowed to interact with our feelings in a very roundabout way.

Which frankly sucked right now, considering the fact that a maniac had attacked her mind while wearing my face.

It had been weeks since I'd last spoken to Karrin. Not her fault, mind you. I had been spending most of my time in the lab grilling Bob about any conceivable way to reverse vampirism. I had hardly spoken to anyone else. Needless to say, it wasn't going well.

Sometime after Bob scolded me for the hundredth time that I was going on five days without eating or sleeping, I shuffled up into the kitchen and made myself a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. I mean, what did Bob know about eating? He was a skull, for Christ's sake. And I had been drinking coffee the whole time, so he was just being an ass.

I drank my...uh...probably fortieth coffee of the last three days and slumped into my loveseat. My thoughts were foggy. I didn't want to think about what happened. Maybe that was the shock talking. The denial too. Denial was terribly helpful for people like me who were emotionally constipated.

Somewhere during my blank staring, I noticed the phone. I bit my lip and glanced at the clock. Well, it wasn't inhuman hours. I could probably call her and she'd be awake. Hell, even hearing her voicemail might cheer me up.

I lurched over and dialed Karrin's number. It rang.

Then a click and her soft voice. "Hey, Harry."

Something warm and liquid washed over me, starting at the crown of my head, flowing over my neck and shoulders, pooling in my chest. Relief. God, what a sap I am. "Hey, Murph."

Silence. I shifted in my seat, wracking my nutrient-deprived brain for something to say. I could just see her sitting there, one blonde eyebrow raised. It almost made me smile.

"Typically, this is the part where you tell me what you want," Karrin said, faintly amused.

I coughed. "Right. I'm rusty with the mechanics of conversation. Haven't been out much lately."

She sighed gently. "Me neither, to tell you the truth. You're excused."

"Thanks."

"Any luck finding something to help Susan?"

My gut jerked. "No, not yet."

"You'll find something, Harry," Murphy said, and her tone was as gentle as a cool breeze. "You always do. There are donkeys that wish they could be as stubborn as you."

I choked on a laugh. "Gee, thanks, Murph."

"I try. Have you caught a case?"

"No, I've just been in the lab this whole time."

"Oh. Then what's up?"

I licked my lips. Fuck. The Male Friendship Rules were limiting my options here. I buried my face in one hand and pushed my shaggy hair back. She'd kill me if I told her I wanted to check up on her. Kill me and bury me in my own backyard.

My shoulders slumped. Screw it. If I was dead, then I wouldn't have to feel this awful. "I...guess I just wanted to hear your voice. It's been a while."

Silence. Great, Harry. Make things awkward between you and one of the only friends you have in the world. The same friend who just suffered literal psychological torture from a monster wearing your face.

"Oh," Karrin said in a little voice. She didn't know what to say anymore than I did.

Bail. Just bail on the call. This went somewhere weird. I opened my mouth to tell her that I had to go, but then she spoke up. "Have you been eating?"

I frowned. "I just had a PB&J, _Mom_."

Karrin grunted. "Don't even start with me, Harry. I know how you get when you're after something. Self care goes right out the window."

"I'm fine," I grumbled, and I absolutely was not blushing right now, no sirree.

Her voice came out tart as a lemon. "When's the last time you shaved or showered?"

My mouth flew open. Then I stopped. Oh, wow. I actually couldn't remember. I clenched my teeth. " _Recently._ "

She snorted. "A likely story. The whole world will still be left standing if you take five minutes out of your day for a shower, you know."

Well, there was just no way I could let that one slide. "Spend a lot of time thinking about me showering, do you?"

I knew she'd rolled her eyes without even seeing her. "Tons. It consumes me day and night. What kind of soap does Harry use? What does his shampoo smell like? What's his aftershave? Does he wear boxers or briefs?"

A weird noise left my throat. I realized a moment later I was laughing. It felt...good. "At last, you've admitted the truth. You'll be proposing to me any second now."

She scoffed. "Why do I have to do it?"

"Hey, this is the 21st century. Lady cops can propose to wizards. You've got to be more progressive, Murphy."

I could practically see her seething right now. "You are such an ass, Harry."

I shrugged. "I am what I be."

"Idiot." She paused. "Harry?"

"Yeah?"

"Are you checking up on me?"

I tried not to sound guilty. "...nooooooo."

"I will drive to your dump of an apartment and _literally beat the living shit out of you._ "

"I'm sorry," I said. "Really. It's just...the way we left things...I'm sorry about what happened. I know there isn't an apology good enough for what you had to endure, but--"

"Harry," she said quietly. "If you apologize again, I'll reach through this phone and strangle you. It wasn't your fault. I made those decisions. I'm your friend. I can handle the consequences."

"I know. That's why I've been keeping my distance. I know you need some space after he..." I cut myself off, forcing myself not to picture that awful look that had been on her face. I wanted to dig the bastard up and kill him another twenty goddamn times.

"Look, I just...want you to know that I'm here if you need anything, okay? That's all."

She exhaled slowly. "I know, Harry."

She wouldn't thank me. But she hadn't bitten my head off, so maybe this phone call hadn't been a complete disaster. "Good. I've got to get back to work. Take care, huh?"

"I will if you will," she said stubbornly.

"Well, I'm just going to translate that as an invitation to think about you taking a shower," I said cheerfully, grinning as she groaned.

"Good night, you pig."

"Good night, Murphy."

* * *

I hung up the phone, thinking the man I could technically call my best friend was the dumbest person on the planet earth. But he made me smile. Hell, he'd probably called with that goal in mind, the idiot.

I shifted my body slightly until I was facing the television again. I had been watching some old westerns. John Wayne was the cure for whatever could ail me, most of the time. It said a lot about me that my personal pick-me-up was a giant, no-nonsense Man's Man who was good at killing people. Why did that sound familiar?

I tipped the bottle of gin up to my mouth again. I winced when I lowered it, noticing it was at less than half the bottle. I'd have to grab another one tomorrow at the rate I was going.

The movie droned on. My eyes drifted to the phone again. My mouth wanted to smile a little. Harry had this annoying habit of tugging at my heart strings sometimes. He drove me crazy. His ideals were ridiculous. He was worried about me. It was frustrating, but...so was he.

Worse still, his feelings weren't completely invalid.

I hadn't slept in three days. Insomnia consumed me in random bursts. Some days I could sleep. Others were plagued with nightmares. I'd wake up bathed in cold sweat and reaching for the gin or something to help even me out as the images of Kravos' torture flickered through my brain. I didn't want to go back there. I didn't want that phantom pain inside me. The gin helped sometimes. Combined with the Valium, it occasionally granted me dreamless sleep, but not always.

And that hadn't been the worst part.

The worst part had been not seeing Harry for weeks. Not because he was in his lab, obsessed with curing Susan.

It was because I couldn't look at him right now.

I hated that. It wasn't his fault. Harry was my friend. I chose to be his friend, and I never regretted it. He was a good man and he did what was right at the cost of himself.

But as much as I cared for him, I couldn't look at him the same way right now. That devil-may-care smile and those dark eyes and that tousled hair used to comfort me, and that was exactly what that fucking monster knew when he traipsed into my office. He'd used Harry to get to me. He'd taken something from me. He'd taken away the idea that I was ready and prepared for anything. He'd come at me sideways and the aftershock threw me into a downward spiral I couldn't shake.

Like Harry, I wouldn't ask for help. I'd deal with this on my own. Storms pass eventually, and I was in the middle of the ocean with its black, titanic waves, all but drowning, trying to weather it. I knew I could. I'd beaten worse things than this.

But this was the first time I couldn't ask Harry for help.

Not that we dabbled into each other's personal lives all that much. He and I operated on what I understood to be the same level that close male friends did. He didn't butt into my business and I didn't butt into his, not unless one of us was about to go careening off a cliff. I knew we were both pretending we were okay right now. We'd said it without saying it to each other. He and I knew that dance very well. It was ludicrous, but it was all either of us knew how to do without making things awkward.

The best I could hope for was that my shower suggestion had gotten through his thick skull. Harry really was awful about caring for himself, both because he was a (now) single bachelor and because he was miserable and depressed.

 _"Spend a lot of time thinking about me showering, do you?"_ I almost smiled. Idiot. Then again, how did Harry even manage to shower at 6'9''? I mean, did he rig the showerhead somehow so he could get under there? Or did he just stoop all the way until he was under the water?

My brain tried to figure out the mechanics and got distracted thinking about Harry without a shirt on with water cascading down the back of his shoulders and over his chest and between his legs--

I sipped the gin again, focusing on the Duke and not the fact that my face had started turning pink at the direction of my thought process. _Whoa there, Karrin. Whoa. I know it's been a while for you, but chill out. That line of thinking is dangerous._

I settled into the couch. As I did, a sort of liquidity entered my limbs. The tension that had been in my shoulders and spine wasn't there any more. I frowned. Now, was that because of the drugs and alcohol or the phone call? Argh.

My eyelids fluttered shut. Maybe I could just rest my eyes for a second. Maybe, just maybe, I'd be lucky enough for a dreamless slumber.

_The door to my office opened. I glanced up to see Harry ducking his head like usual, his enormous hand on the knob. "Knock, knock."_

_I waved him in and he shut the door. He didn't sit down immediately like usual, which was strange for him. Harry's long legs constantly made him a target for low ceilings, hanging light fixtures, and ceiling fans. When offered, he'd sit simply to avoid bumping into something. My office was cramped already and he felt practically enormous in it when he kept standing._

_"How goes it?" he asked, pushing his hands into his pockets. Again, unusual. He wasn't usually so casual when we were on the clock, so to speak. Maybe I was thinking too hard. It was easy to get burned out when shit like this was going on in my city._

_"Horrible as always," I admitted. "You okay?"_

_He nodded. "You?"_

_"I'm...dealing with it," I said, massaging my forehead with the heel of my hand. I'd been at it for a while. It was a useless gesture. I kept hoping that I could suppress the headache trying to build in my skull by just pressing on one spot, but I knew better._

_"You look tired," Harry said softly. I spared him a weary smile._

_"What else is new?"_

_Most times, admitting such a thing led to a terrible joke. Harry was excellent at those, and even better at groan-worthy puns. He delighted in pushing my buttons, and though I'd never admit it out loud, it was a slight relief to hear them. Someone needed to invite levity into the murder and mayhem I dealt with on a daily basis._

_He didn't crack a joke. He stared at me with those dark eyes and then to my surprise, he walked around my desk. Harry and I were close. We'd touched, mostly out of necessity, but sometimes out of comfort. Not long ago, he'd had a bump on his head and a probable concussion. I'd driven him home, scolding his stupidity and recklessness, holding his hand the whole time. I'd even tucked the big idiot into his bed and made sure he was taken care of for the night. He'd have done the same for me, after all._

_"That kind of thing can eat at you," he said in that same soft voice._

_I shrugged. "Comes with the territory."_

_He stepped closer. I defiantly didn't move, mostly because I wasn't sure what he was getting at. He wasn't about to...well, I didn't think he would, not since he was going steady with Susan right now. So what on earth was he up to?_

_He slid behind my chair and his long fingers closed over my shoulders. Automatically, I shut my eyes. He massaged them slowly, applying the right amount of pressure so that it felt almost heavenly on my aching muscles. I carried a lot of tension in the upper part of my back. Rich used to do this for me a lifetime ago._

_But it was...very unlike Harry._

_A slight frown formed between my brows as his careful hands moved over my shoulders. His posture had been off. Harry slouched--an old habit of an obscenely tall person, but he hadn't been slouching when he walked in. He also wasn't bold, at least when it came to the two of us alone. Even though he knew me arguably better than anyone, he often seemed to test if something was okay before he'd ask it or do it. Why was it nagging at me so much?_

_"Better?" Harry asked._

_I glanced up at him from upside down._

_He smiled._

_And stared right into my eyes._

_My heart stopped._

_It wasn't my Harry._

_The imposter let out a single chuckle as he slid his hands up my neck and plunged glowing fingers right into my brain._

I jerked upright from the couch, gasping hard as a faint echo of the pain jolted through me.

"Fuck," I spat, reaching for the gin. It wouldn't leave me alone, not tonight. I guess I'd have to go for day four with no sleep. I'd read once that a person could go a whole two weeks without sleep before it started to literally kill them.

A bitter chuckle left my alcohol-tainted lips.

Here's hoping.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In Summer Knight, I think Murph mentions that she didn't know it wasn't Harry, but in my head, Murphy's a cop and Kravos would have had to perfectly imitate Harry before getting close to her, and this is a way I think he could have done that. It's similar to that infamous episode of The X-Files where the guy wearing Mulder's body pretty much seduces Scully, and I think Kravos would have done something slightly intimate to get close enough to touch her, and Murphy wouldn't have caught on until it was far too late. I like to give her more credit. Even if she didn't notice overtly, I think the pieces might have added up right before it happened, but I guess we'll never know.


	24. Fumble

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry and Murphy get physical. It's definitely harder than it looks. Pun intended. Post Skin Game.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just another silly headcanon of mine that takes place soon-ish after Skin Game. I'm under the assumption that with the hospital kiss and the reconfirmation of love between them that they've agreed to be a couple. It's just off to a...bumpy start.

Self control has never been one of those things I have innately had at all times.

"Ten...nine...eight...seven...six...five...four...three...two...last one...aaaaand done!"

I beamed down at Karrin, my hands on her ankles to hold them securely in place against the little yoga mat beneath us. She flopped onto her back with a relieved sigh, her cheeks flushed pink, but not too much. She had her hair back in a ponytail and little wisps had escaped during her sit-ups, making her look even more adorable than usual. She wore a purple tank top, Lycra bike shorts, and New Balance tennis shoes. Normally, Karrin was a yoga pants kind of girl, but the brace over her knee chafed if she wore the yoga pants. Plus, she liked torturing me. It took pretty much every ounce of my will power not to pin her bare legs underneath me and plant kiss marks all over them.

"Nice hustle, Murphy," I said, propping my forearms on her bent knees. I didn't put any weight down to avoid exacerbating the still-healing one.

"Thanks," she said breathlessly. "How long was that?"

I checked the little timer on the floor to my right. "Just under two minutes. Nice and limber."

I punctuated the latter statement by waggling my eyebrows. Murphy snorted and rolled her eyes at me. "Don't get any ideas, mister. It's your turn next."

"Aw, c'mon, Murph," I groaned. "I'm all juiced up with Winter Knight-ness. Do I really have to keep exercising?"

She arched an eyebrow. "It's not going to keep you in perfect shape at all times. It's a tool for survival, not a cheat. On your back, Dresden."

"Hmm, suddenly I like where this is going," I said with a grin as she got up and I took her spot. I only winced a little after I'd settled and put my arms behind my head. My left arm was still in a cast from my hand all the way to my elbow. It would come off in about two weeks. Said Winter Knight-ness had healed it way faster than your Average Joe, but it was still a bitch trying to Wizard with this thing in the way. It didn't hurt all that much any more, but it itched like crazy and Murphy had stopped me about twenty times from cracking it open and taking my chances.

"Nothing's going anywhere until you give me fifty, Dresden," Murphy said coolly, fastening her hands to my ankles.

"I don't know," I said, pushing my bottom lip out in a pout. "I could use some motivation."

Her blue eyes sparkled with mischief. "Alright. Make it to twenty-five and maybe you'll get something to motivate you."

"Now we're talking." I started. The benefit of all those months of physical therapy with Sarissa was that my body sort of slipped right back into the routine without too much trouble. In spite of my complaining, I had been still running with Thomas almost every morning and hitting the gym if he felt like it afterward. Thomas thought it was a hoot that I could deadlift a car and so pretty much every time we went to the gym, we ended up in ludicrous lifting competitions, the loser buying lunch. We were tied 4-4 right now.

For that same reason, I did a true blue sit up instead of the half sit ups I'd seen some beginners doing--all the way up from the floor until my chin hovered over my knees. Murphy watched me with a faux impassive look, a faint smile spreading across her lips as she counted out each rep.

When I reached twenty-five, she leaned in just a bit as soon as my face cleared my knees and gave me a little kiss. Shudders rolled down my back. I really wanted to know what I was going to get when I hit fifty. I went on double-time with the remaining twenty-five, and Murphy started giggling when she saw how fast I was going. She only had herself to blame. The woman was a damn fine kisser.

I blazed past number fifty and she let go of my ankles enough to meet me halfway, her lips parting automatically. I slipped my tongue past her lips and slid my hand behind her head, drawing her closer still, losing myself in the taste of mint tea on her tongue. She tried not to have caffeine before a workout. I had no such compunctions.

I didn't remember tugging her into my lap, but a moment later, the weight of her thighs and lower body settled over my pelvis and I damn near forgot about the fact that we were in her den with her furniture pushed aside and the yoga mat probably wouldn't survive what I was thinking about doing to her right now. She didn't seem to care anymore than I did. She ran her hands over my shoulders and I tugged her closer, winding my arms around her. Her mouth fell open to make a sound.

" _Ow_."

I froze, alarmed. "Huh?"

She winced, glancing at her knee. While she was, uh, straddling me, her knee had wandered off the mat onto the hardwood floor. Some of the lust-soaked fog crept away from my brain. Having her kneel over me probably wasn't the best course of action for this kind of thing.

"Sorry," I muttered.

She shook her head. "Not your fault, dummy."

I rolled us over, pressing her into the mat this time, finding her mouth with mine again. It was just as hot and delicious as the first time. My track pants got tighter and tighter and my hands itched with the need to remove a few layers to get to that bare, creamy skin of hers. I reached for the hem of her shirt with my right hand, which put the burden of holding myself up on my left arm and--

" _Ow_."

Murphy opened her eyes, worry flickering through them. "You okay?"

"Yes," I grumbled, shooting an insolent glare at the limb. "One second while I chew this thing off at the elbow."

Murphy giggled. Murphy almost never giggles, but it's the cutest damn thing in the universe and I was possessively proud that she only giggled around me when we were alone. It was _my_ giggle and I was proud of that, dammit.

She rolled her lower lip inward, giving me a helpless look. "This really isn't going well, is it?"

I sighed. "I told you if you just let me take the damn thing off--"

"You," she said in her firm, former-cop voice. "Are _not_ taking it off until your arm heals and that's final."

Then her expression softened and she touched the side of my face, brushing the sweaty hair out of my eyes. "And I'm not going anywhere. Neither are you. There's no rush, Harry."

I gazed down at her in all her ruffled beauty and understanding. Then I groaned in frustration and collapsed on top of her, burying my face in her neck. "But I don't _want_ to wait."

Murphy laughed at my petulant tone. "Patience, thy name is Harry."

"I've waited too goddamn long as it is," I grumbled against her sweet-smelling skin.

She wrapped her arms around my neck and playfully tousled my hair. "Oh, get over it, Dresden. Another two weeks isn't going to kill you."

I heaved a sigh, kissing the delicate spot between her neck and shoulder. She hummed a little. The vibration trailed down her chest and felt very nice against the front of my body. "I suppose not, but still. You're killing me, woman."

"Likewise," she said, her voice a little shaky as my mouth wandered lower towards her collarbone. I licked the sweat that had pooled there and followed the path to her breastbone. She wiggled. Murphy is _very_ good at wiggling. She should make a professional career out of it.

I thought about all the shenanigans I could possibly get away with without the use of my left arm and ran them down with logic. It wasn't that we _couldn't_ fool around in our injured states. It was that if we started, well, there was no way in hell we'd stop before getting to That Point and it would put a whole damper on things if we ended up in the ER after our first time together. She was right. We'd made a choice. She wasn't going anywhere. I wasn't going anywhere. We'd wait.

"Fine," I groused, tearing my lips away from the heavenly mounds inches away. "But you'd better live up to your end of the bargain."

She lifted an eyebrow again. "Which was?"

A wolfish grin spread over my mouth. "I believe there was mention of screaming."

She met my gaze, unafraid, and matched my smile. "Damn right, Dresden. You'll be in a full body cast by the time I'm done with you."

Oh, man. Two weeks was _way_ too long to wait for paradise.

FIN

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At this point, I'm gonna have to credit Jim Butcher in the Acknowledgments of my new novel because his series has provided me with so many procrastination opportunities. xD


	25. Taste

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Murphy unknowingly ingests love potion while helping Harry chase down a suspect. Consequences abound. Post Proven Guilty, pre Turn Coat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I DON'T EVEN KNOW GUYS. xD
> 
> I am just enchanted the idea of Murphy seducing Harry in a pre-relationship scenario and this was a good way to go about it. Mostly because Harry already thinks Murphy is gorgeous while she's swinging a Sword and kicking monster ass in her leather jacket and jeans, so God forbid she put any energy towards wanting to turn him on intentionally. 
> 
> And don't worry, there's no dubious consent. That's not how I roll. 
> 
> Also, this isn't the same kind of love potion Susan got, so don't sweat the difference in their behaviors. This is something of my own design.

_"I can't hear you_  
_You're talking to yourself and what you're used to_  
_Don't work on no one else_  
_I'm gonna teach you_  
_And keep you for myself_  
_I'm gonna take you by the hand_  
_I'm gonna walk you to my house so I can feel you_  
_-"I Can't Hear You" by The Dead Weather_

Usually when bad guys try to stall me with distractions, it's any manner of complicated spells or insidious traps to cause me grievous harm.

Tonight was a bit...different.

My infamously unfortunate night at Bianca's mansion had taught me to never accept drinks from anyone while working a job. Murphy had the same policy, for the most part, but that had applied to alcoholic beverages or anything offered by the fae. I hadn't really gone over the specifics about how dangerous and crafty the enemy could be with food and beverages. She and I had gotten separated during our recon portion of the evening. Our villain led us on a merry chase through the mansion that ended in their master bedroom. I hadn't thought much of the unusual setting until that smug smile swept across my opponent's face and the pit of my stomach dropped open.

"Sorry to leave you in the lurch, wizard," he sneered from the corner he'd edged his way over to. "But I get the feeling you'll be thanking me soon enough."

I gritted my teeth, still panting from the chase, my blasting rod pointed at his smug face. "Oh yeah? Why's that?"

His grin turned toothy. "Well, your partner there was awful thirsty during the waltz."

I froze. Uh-oh. I didn't like where this was going.

"And she's probably worked up quite a sweat running after me," he continued. "Enough that it's gotten through her entire system by now. With that, I'll bid you two lovebirds adieu."

He snatched the rope near the curtains and dropped down into a previously unseen trapdoor just as I'd let off on a half-panicked _"Forzare!"_ The windows behind him shattered, spilling glass and cold air into the room. Didn't do me much good. He was gone, for now.

"Fuck," I snarled, lowering the blasting rod just in time to hear an ominous clanking sound from the bedroom door. I knew before I rushed over that it had locked itself. The damned things were twelve feet tall and several inches thick. It would take a lot of juice to knock them out of the hinges, and from the sound of the automatic locks, they were reinforced with steel. I had as good a chance of busting them down with magic as I did kicking them down. That left the window, and with a five story drop, our options were limited. Dollars to donuts the trapdoor wouldn't work if I tried it.

As I stood there, running scenarios, the bastard's final words rewound and played themselves again in my head.

"I'll bid you two _lovebirds_ adieu."

As if on cue, I heard Murphy's voice from where she'd been standing across the room.

_"Harry."_

Do you remember that scene from Who Framed Roger Rabbit? You know, the one where Eddie Valiant is at the club and hears the opening lines to "Why Don't You Do Right?" He'd been expecting a goofy looking cartoon rabbit to be singing and instead got the silken pipes of Jessica Rabbit instead? And then those curtains parted and the animated equivalent of every man's wet dream walked onto that stage?

Well, that's what it sounded like when Murphy called my name.

I gulped, my pulse racing, from the melodious tone in her voice. It had felt like hitting a tuning fork against a table, except the tuning fork was my spine and Murphy's voice were the vibrations. Every nerve in my entire body stood at attention.

Slowly, I turned around.

When I'd figured out where our mystery bad guy was going to be, I'd asked Murphy to come along for backup, and as my date, since I was going under a fake name and didn't want to stand out as a single bachelor. It was nothing more than a masquerade ball, so no one would recognize me right off the bat, not with my Phantom of the Opera mask on the whole time. I knew Murphy hated dresses, so I told her to just be a little avant garde instead. Plus, it made the weapon easier to hide if she didn't have to wear her thigh strap for the piece under a skirt.

Murphy had all but shocked me by showing up in a silk pinstriped suit that was perfectly tailored for her body type. It had a high waistline and a red silk cravat as well as one of those tiny decorative hats with an artful veil that just barely shadowed her eyes. She'd pinned her hair into a French knot and put a little eye shadow on as well as a blood red lipstick. Honestly, I liked it even better than the dress I'd seen her in at her family reunion, and I'd had to adjust my suit pants a couple times after I saw her, to my utmost embarrassment.

Then there was the way she was _looking_ at me.

I don't get a lot of Looks. I mean, sure, people look at me a lot because I'm freakishly tall and a little scary when I've got the leather duster on, and God forbid if I'm in a bad mood while I'm wearing it. The fairer sex doesn't seem particularly impressed with me, which I have accepted over time, but I'm not altogether bad on the eyes. I've gotten an appreciative glance here and there, and so I'm no stranger to how it feels to have a woman's eyes on me and she's enjoying the view.

Murphy's look made me feel like I was wearing not a stitch. And I had layers on, for God's sake.

She smiled at me and unclipped the little decorative hat. She tossed it behind her on the bed and grabbed a couple of bobby pins from the knot. Seconds later, she shook out her golden hair, and it fell in curling waves around her cheeks and over her forehead, framing her blue eyes.

Then she lifted one hand and curled her first finger at me.

"Hell's _bells_ ," I croaked under my breath. I'd thought one of the hardest things I'd ever done had been warding off Susan's advances the night the toad demon attacked and she'd been unfortunate enough to ingest the love potion. Murphy hadn't taken off a single item of clothing or said a single filthy thing to me, and yet my entire body screamed at me to take her up on that unspoken offer.

 _Think. Think, stupid._ I kicked my brain frantically until a nugget of logic popped out. Drink. The guy said something about Murphy having a drink while out in the ballroom.

"Murphy, I need you to focus. Do you remember what you drank while you were in the ballroom? Maybe how it tasted? What color it was?"

"Clear, I think," she said dreamily. "Water's clear, right? I could use some right now. It's warm in here."

She unbuttoned the suit jacket, causing me minor heart failure as my sluggish ape-brain put two and two together finally.

Oh no. Oh, this couldn't be happening.

He'd spiked her water with love potion.

Murphy tossed the suit jacket onto the bed as well and her adorable, begging-for-my-attention lower lip pushed out slightly. "Harry, you're still all the way over there."

"Um," I squeaked, trying desperately to figure out how the hell I was going to get us out of this alive. "Y-Yeah, uh, just give me a moment here, Murph."

I whirled and chewed on my thumbnail, muttering furiously to myself. "Think, idiot, think! Maybe I can put her to sleep? No, we're in enemy territory and I shouldn't cart her around unconscious like a loaf of bread. Still gotta find the way down and if he's got Mooks, they'll find us. I can put a shield around us and jump, but the impact of the fall's going to be a bitch. Don't suppose the old 'tie the bed sheets up as a rope ladder' trick is worth a go--"

"Harry," Murphy whispered from right behind me as she snuck her arms around my waist and inside my suit jacket. I almost jumped right out of my skin and whirled again, slipping out of her grasp and backpedaling.

"Murph," I said. "You're, um, you've ingested something that's making you have... _feelings_ about me that you don't actually have and I need you to concentrate."

Her brow furrowed in a slight frown. "What did I ingest?"

"Offhand, I'm going to guess it was love potion."

She cocked her head slightly to one side. It was disturbingly cute. "I thought you told me you can't force anyone to love another person. The potion's supposed to enhance what's already there."

I licked my lips. Wow. Even drugged up, Murphy was still sharp as a tack. "W-Well, for the most part, but that doesn't mean a really clever whatsit can't engineer something that has nothing to do with attraction deep down."

I nearly yelped as my back hit the wall behind us. Damn. I'd gone as far as I could on this side of the room. Murphy peered up at me through her curling golden hair, seeming unconvinced.

"Are you saying you're not attracted to me, Harry?"

"Yep!" I said. "Absolutely not attracted to you at all. Not even a little bit."

Murphy quirked an eyebrow up at me and then glanced below my belt. I blushed so hard it was a wonder I didn't faint from all the blood relocating to two major areas of my body at once. She flicked her gaze back up at me and adopted a skeptical tone that sounded oddly like the real Murphy.

"You're lying, Harry."

"Probably," I said weakly. "But it's better than the alternative."

She shook her head and rested her hands over my shoulders. The warmth bled through my tuxedo shirt and made goosebumps break out over my chest. She was close enough now that I could smell her. She smelled like sunlight and strawberries. Something in my chest ached.

"Is it really so terrible if we're attracted to each other?" Murphy asked in an oh-so quiet, oh-so reasonable voice. "We're friends. I trust you."

Stars and stones, that one hurt to hear. She wasn't my Murphy right now, but that sounded a lot like her. She didn't deserve this. I was going to hunt this bastard down and rip him in half for doing this to her, for making her feel this way.

"Murphy," I said softly, resting my hands on her shoulders. "That's why this can't happen. Because we are friends. Because we trust each other. I can't risk losing you. I can't risk hurting you. Ever."

"But this," she said, running her hand down over my pectoral, my abs, my thigh, and electric shocks ran through my veins at her touch. "Doesn't this feel good?"

"Hell's bells, Murph," I gasped out. "You have no idea how good it feels. But that doesn't make it right."

"But it's been so long," she whispered, pressing her soft body into me. "For both of us. Wouldn't it just be nice to forget? To let go?"

I groaned as she brushed a kiss against the side of my throat. God, she was going to kill me if I didn't get a hold on the situation. I didn't want to hurt her, but she wouldn't be able to stop herself. I'd have to stop her.

And the scariest thing of all was that I didn't _want_ to stop her.

"Harry," she whispered, her teeth grazing my earlobe. "Harry Blackstone Copperfield Dresden."

My body jerked like she'd run an electric current through me. My eyes fluttered shut on their own. Sweet pleasure pulsed through me from head to toe, damn near the kind I'd only been lucky enough to feel a few times in my entire life. _God_. She'd said my Name. Not even Elaine had ever said my Name like that. The urge to touch her, to kiss her, to remove those cumbersome layers and _feel_ her, rushed up through me like a tidal wave. I _wanted_ her. I wanted her more than anything on earth right now.

"Make love to me, Harry," she said into my ear. "Touch me."

Wrong. This was _wrong_. But I wanted it _so much_.

Fuck.

I was going to kill that son of a bitch.

I pulled back from her enough to look down at her face, so eager, so hungry, and knew my own features reflected hers. I tucked a cloud of hair behind her ear and kissed her. I didn't restrain myself. I kissed her, let her feel my mouth on hers, took in the utterly maddening texture of her lips on mine, the scent of her, the warmth of her body in my arms. For just a moment, I let go. I let myself feel what I'd been suppressing for a long damned time. I let her feel it. The kiss burned through us both and the whole mansion might have gone up in flames for all I noticed.

The kiss ended. I tilted my head enough to whisper in her ear, " _Dormius, dorme_. _Dormius_ , Murphy."

The spell wove down my arm where it was wrapped around the small of her back and flowed into her body. She shuddered and her lashes fluttered down over her eyes. She went still and then limp in my arms, blissfully asleep. It wasn't the best plan, but I wouldn't be able to get us out of here with her in such a state.

"I'm sorry, Karrin," I murmured, stroking her hair gently before I lifted her. "You deserve better."

-

I got Murphy home, tucked her into her bed, and collapsed on the couch to properly flagellate myself for what had happened. She slept peacefully, at least. She hadn't stirred a bit the whole ride home. I'd convinced the cabbie she'd had too much to drink and he didn't give me too much trouble. I paid him an extra tip out of guilt, though.

I was working on a lead for our fugitive asshole when I heard the carpet creak and then Murphy came around the corner, rubbing her eyes. Her hair was still a little bit curly and she looked well-rested and perfectly cute.

"Harry?" she mumbled. "What time is it?"

"You don't want to know," I snorted, putting my pen down. "How are you feeling?"

"Weirdly rested," she admitted, and then glanced down at her costume. "Mostly confused."

I bit my lower lip and took the plunge. "How, uh, how much do you remember?"

"We had him pinned in the master bedroom," she said slowly, frowning. "Then...it gets kind of fuzzy after that."

I tried not to let the relief show on my face. Well, now I had the Sadistic Choice: tell her and risk the embarrassment fallout or lie and feel like a guilty piece of shit for about the next ten years. I heard the Final Jeopardy music in my head before she asked the inevitable.

"What'd I miss?"

I licked my lips. Murphy was arguably my best friend. She could practically smell a lie and I wasn't terribly convincing to begin with. She'd beat me into Yorkshire pudding if she found out I'd kept the truth from her. But knowing the truth might injure her pride more than a little.

"He..." I sighed and ran a hand over my face to try and hide the blush. "...apparently, he drugged that water you drank with something. It distracted us and he got away. For now."

"Drugged it with what? Should I be in rehab right now?"

"No, it's been long enough that it wore off. There's no long term damage or withdrawal symptoms."

I ventured to peek at her through my fingers. She'd crossed her arms and she was staring at me expectantly. "Well, out with it. What'd he drug me with?"

God, this was humiliating. I lowered my hand and tried to figure out how to tell her, but then she cut me off.

"What's that on your neck?"

I frowned. "Huh?"

She shuffled over to me and tilted my chin, staring intently at the side of my throat, near my Adam's apple. "What?"

Murphy then abruptly turned bright pink and let me go. " _Shit._ Tell me I didn't do that. Tell me we didn't--"

"Nothing happened!" I said quickly, blushing profusely at the fact that I hadn't felt her plant the hickey on me. Boy, that Name thing must have been really distracting if I hadn't noticed it. "I swear. He slipped you love potion."

Murphy pressed her hands over her face and groaned, collapsing into her love seat. "Kill me. Just kill me."

"I know," I said sympathetically. "But it's happened to the best of them, Murph. A good practitioner can eliminate the taste and the smell of the stuff. It wasn't your fault. I should have warned you about drinking anything."

"It was a rookie move," she said. "It was hot in that suit and I was trying to cool off."

 _You weren't the only one,_ I thought to myself. "I promise there's no lasting damage. We'll get this prick for doing that to you. I promise. We'll put his ass under the goddamn jail."

"God," she muttered. "I must have sounded like a complete idiot."

I shrugged. "Well, I sound like an idiot twenty-four seven and I'm still in one piece."

Murphy straightened a bit, finally dropping her hands, and then sent me a suspicious look. "You're not making fun of me."

"Murph, come on. It was an honest mistake."

She pursed her lips. "Yeah, but that's still not very you. I would have expected you to tell me that I recited a Shakespearean sonnet for you or something. What gives?"

"Nothing," I lied. "I'm trying to let your ego recover. The teasing starts tomorrow, believe me."

Murphy pinned me to the couch with that scrutinizing stare. I didn't relent, but I felt my pulse skyrocket as I willed her not to put the pieces together. _Don't remember it, Murph. Don't remember it._

"Fine," she said, standing up. "Let me get out of this stupid costume and we'll pick up on his trail."

She disappeared around the corner. I let out a breath I didn't realize I'd been holding.

Then she poked her head around the corner. "Oh, and Dresden?"

"Yeah?"

She flashed me a sly smile that gave me heart palpitations. "You should maybe look in the mirror a little more often."

She left. Confused, I got up and wandered over to the mirror inside her grandfather clock and inspected myself.

I turned bright red.

There were _two_ hickeys on my neck.

Hell's _bells_.

FIN

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know how this started out funny, turned angsty, and then got funny again. I hope nobody got Mood Whiplash. I just wanted to see how Harry would react having to confront their attraction and overcome it. 
> 
> Oh, and I don't think it's ever been confirmed or denied that Murphy knows Harry's full Name, but that Name Orgasm thing is so a headcanon of mine. Not that he, uh, did, but I totally have this idea that if the person you love says your Name the right way, yahtzee. 
> 
> ...
> 
> Am I the only one who thinks that idea is insanely hot?
> 
> ...
> 
> *plays "Super Freak" and moonwalks out of the room* Back to my trashpile bye.


	26. Tried and True

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There is only one bed. Well, of course there is. Takes place before Small Favor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, who can resist the tried and true There is Only One Bed trope? It's so fun! I wrote this for a couple reasons, mostly for lolz, but also because I wanted to sneak in a little bit of teasing in there from Harry rather than Murphy this time. And I like these two idiots bickering and flirting with each other.

_"If it acts just like it's the boss_  
_When it knows that you are, of course_  
_If it gets a little rough, thinks it's very tough_  
_Pow! It's a man!_  
_If it walks, if it talks, if its habits are a little bit peculiar_  
_If it brags and tries to make you think it's wonderful_  
_Be on the lookout! Don't let it fool ya!_  
_But if it's kneeling down on one knee_  
_Saying, "Darling, please marry me,"_  
_Then don't hesitate, better name the date_  
_And then grab it, hold it, hang onto it_  
_For it's a man!"_  
_-"It's a Man" by Betty Hutton_

"This is your fault," I said flatly, standing in the doorway of the motel room and staring pointedly at the single bed in the tiny room that was subarctic temperatures. "You did this to us. You jinxed us."

"How is this my fault?" Harry whined. "It's the only hotel within a fifty mile radius and it's the only room available. It was either this place or curling up in your car Planes, Trains, and Automobiles-style."

"Honestly," I groused, shuffling inside and shaking out my wet hair that the random rainstorm decided to plaster to my head shortly after we arrived. "I'm reconsidering that idea right now. At least the car works."

"Sure, for now, but not if I had stayed in it much longer," Harry said, kicking the door shut with his heel. I sent him an arch look over my shoulder.

"Wouldn't matter. You'd be in the trunk."

Harry rolled his eyes. "You're so cranky when you don't get your beauty sleep."

I lobbed one of the small, thin pillows from the bed at him and he chuckled. "Look, it's not a big deal."

He gestured to the small, stiff-looking chair next to the bed. "I can sleep there. I only need about four hours a night anyhow."

I crossed my arms. "Harry, you can't fit half of your ginormous body into that chair."

He bristled, not looking at me as he set his bag down near the chair and started pulling items out. Whenever we traveled somewhere for a case, Harry did a quick check of the room for any meddling or lingering spells. I'd gotten used to it by now. He was paranoid as hell, but it was still a good idea. You never know what kind of things are lurking out there waiting to snag an unsuspecting victim. "Well, I'm not making you sleep in your car or on that chair, so I guess I'll just have to fit."

I rolled my head up and stared at the ceiling. "Why? Why me?"

He frowned at me. "Why you what?"

I stared at him. "Harry, we're both adults here. We can share the bed. What? You afraid I have cooties?"

Harry faced the wall with one of his trinkets, but he wasn't fooling anyone. I'd seen him start blushing before he turned away. Dork. "No, I just...didn't think that was an option."

I rolled my eyes. "You'll be useless to me if you throw your back out trying to sleep on that chair. Listen to reason for once, Dresden. We'll be fine."

Harry coughed. "That...wasn't my hangup."

I arched an eyebrow. "What is?"

"The guy at the front counter said the heat's busted. It's gonna drop into the thirties tonight."

I stared at his back as he crouched over the ancient baseboards, looking for any signs of tampering. "Are you telling me we have to huddle for warmth?"

Harry cleared his throat. "Yup."

I threw my hands up. "All your fault, Harry."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," he grumbled. "Go take your shower already. You're mean when you're cold and wet."

Cursing under my breath, I grabbed my toiletries and pajamas before stomping into the tiny bathroom. At least the hot water worked. The freezing cold melted right off of me for the ten precious minutes I stuck myself under the showerhead. I thought about taking longer and sticking it to the annoying wizard, but then remembered he always took cold showers and it wouldn't really make a difference.

Thankfully, I'd brought a large t-shirt and cotton pajama bottoms instead of my usual night clothing--a tank top and basketball shorts. It wouldn't do much for how cold the room was going to get, but it was better than nothing. I used the itty bitty hair dryer on the wall and the lights flickered dangerously as I dried my hair, but they didn't wink out. I wiped steam off the mirror and combed my hair into a neat ponytail. It was a full minute before I realized I was preening. I glared at my reflection. Harry had seen me at my worst, for God's sake. What on earth was I doing caring about how I looked before crawling into bed with him?

By the time I opened the door, Harry had finished giving the room a once over and I caught him sneaking a look at me, as if checking that I was decent. I briefly imagined the expression on his face if I'd have opened the door in just a towel and had to suppress a bout of giggles. Harry was growing out of his annoying chivalric habits, but he was still shy at heart. It amused me greatly to ruffle his feathers.

Unfortunately, the room had managed to drop several degrees since my shower and I all but tiptoed over to my bag to put my clothes away and quickly burrowed underneath the comforter. I lamented the fact that there wasn't a three-star hotel in this area. The comforter served its purpose, but it was definitely meant to be coupled with a working heater. My toes were icy in minutes.

Harry took his shower the same way a lot of men did--pretty much in five minutes flat--and reappeared in an old faded t-shirt and sweatpants. He padded over to his duffel bag and put his clothes away, but he was taking longer than he should have, which meant he was stalling. Sigh. So useless.

"Harry, I'm freezing," I grumbled. "Hurry up already."

I heard him pause. "You know, it's been a depressingly long time since I've heard a woman rush me to get in bed."

Again, I rolled my eyes. "Shut up and get in here, Harry."

He chuckled softly and climbed onto the bed, pitching it to one side. The metal bedframe screamed for a brief second, but held. He wasn't built, but he was tall and sturdy, and judging from the noise, rather heavy for a wiry guy. The sheets and comforter shifted and then the bed slowly warmed up some as he settled next to me, facing the opposite direction. I shut my eyes, trying to lull myself to sleep, but I was still pretty cold. The bed was a full instead of a queen, so I could feel faint pressure along my shoulder blades where Harry's back touched mine.

I sighed. He was so thick-headed sometimes. "Harry."

"Huh?"

"It's forty degrees in here."

"Yeah, I noticed."

"Then roll over."

He paused. "What?"

I resisted the urge to strangle him. "Roll over and keep me warm, idiot."

Harry coughed. "Oh. Right. Sorry."

The mattress shifted again under his weight. I heard him hesitate for a second as if mentally debating something and then he wrapped his arm around my side, his hand pressed flat to the bed rather than along my stomach or thigh. I felt the firm weight of his chest along my back, the nape of my neck, and his bony knees when he curled up around me. But there was a suspicious lack of firmness at the small of my back and over my butt. Frowning, I wiggled as I felt something soft. Harry made a noise.

I lifted the covers and couldn't suppress a snort when I saw that he'd wedged his pillow between his lower body and my butt. I couldn't see his face, but I knew he was blushing.

"What?" he grumbled.

My upper body shook with the effort to hold in my laughter. "Nothing, just...I haven't seen a courtesy pillow in a while."

"I didn't know it had a name," he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

I pressed my face into my own pillow, snorting with laughter into the thin cotton. Harry emitted a long-suffering sigh. "You know, laughter in bed can really take a toll on a guy's ego, Murph."

It took me a second, but I got myself under control. "Sorry. Let me try that again. You're a big, strong man, Harry."

He groaned. The sound vibrated through my spine. I pretended it didn't feel good. "Not helping, Murphy. Women have it easy, what with having internal reproductive organs."

"You're unbelievably easy to read, Harry," I said haughtily. "That's on _you_. Don't blame your external reproductive organs."

He sputtered. "I am _not_."

"You absolutely are. You have a million tells when you lie."

"That's because you're a cop. You're trained to tell when someone's lying."

I glared at him over my shoulder. "Oh, please. Even if I weren't a cop, I could tell when you were lying."

He scowled at me. I could see him pretty well from the speckled moonlight coming in through the blinds. The rain smattered and pounded the windowpane every so often and thunder rumbled overhead. I didn't realize how intimate it felt lying in the dark with a storm swirling above us. "Is that right?"

The challenge in his tone might as well have been the final nail in the coffin. Harry could push my buttons like no other man on the planet. I could let him win. But I'd rather make him suffer defeat instead.

I rolled over to face him, lifting my brow, not backing down. "Yeah. That's right."

He worked his jaw for a second. "Wanna bet?"

I offered a careless shrug. He smirked at me. "Fine. I'll say something and you tell me if I'm lying or not. Loser buys breakfast in the morning."

I pursed my lips. "That's a lopsided bet. If you're making the statement, you can change your answer so that you're right regardless."

"What's the matter, Murph?" he said, the smirk curling wider over his mouth. "Don't trust me to keep my word?"

He had a point. As I understood it, wizards could be bound much like fairies could if they gave their word. They lost power if they lied outright after giving it. I stared at him, thinking it over. How well did I know him? Would I be able to tell if he was lying?

"Fine," I said. "Give me your word that you'll tell the truth if I guess right or wrong."

"Granted," Harry said, and the tone in his voice made it feel like something solid clicked between us like a lock.

"Go on then," I said airily. "Amaze me, Dresden."

His smirk changed.

I couldn't put my finger on how it changed at first. One moment, he was looking at me with that insufferable smartypants smirk and a second later, the room suddenly felt way too small and the bed felt way too warm. Because of the Soulgaze, Harry couldn't meet my eyes for more than a scant second or two, but he had mastered being able to look at me without direct eye contact and make it feel intimate. Maybe that was the word for the way his smirk had changed. It felt...intimate. Private. The kind of smirk I'd only see in bed with men, but when we were both naked.

Harry's arm was still around me, not quite touching me, but we were only a few inches apart. He leaned in a bit, putting more weight down on the arm behind me, until I felt caged by his body. I was no stranger to be dwarfed in size. I could beat the shit out of anyone who wanted to try to make a point about my height, Harry included, so I knew he wasn't trying to intimidate me. Rather, he was trying to get me off-balance. Ha. Good luck with that one, Dresden.

I was about to congratulate myself for not reacting when his face drifted closer. The shadows over his face shifted as he slid closer, until I could feel his breath on my cheek, my chin. His gaze rolled over me and goosebumps sprang up over my skin that had nothing to do with the cold.

"Sometimes," he said softly, glancing at my lips and then back up at my eyes for a split second. "I think you're the most beautiful woman I've ever laid eyes on and I wish you weren't my best friend so that I could kiss you absolutely senseless."

It took a lot of self-control for my jaw not to drop open. The statement hit me like a hammer between the eyes. I'd never heard him say something with that _tone_ and that _look_ and with him so close and warm and smelling faintly like soap and aftershave and toothpaste with his hair ruffled and his dark eyes rooting me in one spot. I didn't like admitting it to myself, but Harry had moments where he was unknowingly sexy. Apparently when he put forth the effort, he was pretty goddamn good at it.

Maybe I was in over my head this time.

I licked my lips. I was stalling. I didn't want to think about the fact that a rather large part of me wanted to move that damned pillow out of the way and see firsthand if the statement was true. I didn't want to think about the conversation we'd had on the elevator when we went to help Molly at Splattercon where we'd decided to put a lid on whatever the hell had started blooming between us. I didn't want to think about how he'd kissed me after I'd figured out how to save Molly and how it was just a second of sensation, but I'd been remembering the texture of his lips for weeks afterward. I didn't want to think about what it would do to our relationship, our partnership, our friendship, if I leaned in those last few inches and kissed him and shoved him down on this cheap bed and fucked his brains out. I didn't want to think about the fact that it would probably be an unforgettable, wild, hot ride even if all it did was give us something else to think about for a while. I could admit to myself that as much as I enjoyed my playtime with Kincaid, something had been missing, and it would always be missing. He sure as hell wouldn't give a damn either way if I did something tonight. We weren't exclusive or serious, after all.

"So how about it, Karrin?" Harry whispered. "Am I lying?"

_Kiss him. Just kiss him, you stubborn fool. Who cares what happens later? You want this. You know he wants it too. And God, it would feel so damned good._

"You are," I said coolly, never breaking his heated stare. "Lara Raith's the most beautiful woman you've ever laid eyes on."

Slowly, he grinned. "Damn."

I offered a careless shrug. "What can I say? You've got a thing for brunettes, Dresden."

He sighed in defeat. "Just don't make me take you to that vegan place you saw on the way here."

"I make no such promises," I sniffed, flopping onto my side again so he could spoon me. "Good night, loser."

"Good night, Murphy."

* * *

Morning was much better. I woke up warm, as if under direct sunlight, but it was even better because it was all wrapped around me like a blanket.

I didn't want to get up. I knew I needed to, but I was so damned comfortable. I never got to sleep in, dammit. Just this once, maybe I could.

A rumbling sound reached my ears and nudged me into consciousness. Was it still raining outside?

I stirred and froze as I realized that I couldn't move. Then, a moment later, I realized why.

Sometime during the night, I'd rolled over facing Harry. He must have reverted back to the way he slept with a romantic partner; his arms were looped around my waist and back. The rumbling sound had been the snore building in his chest every minute or so. His chin rested on the crown of my hair and warm air brushed my scalp with every breath. There was a calmness to him as he slept that I saw very rarely in Harry Dresden. It damn near lulled me right back to sleep. He was actually kind of...cute this way.

I shut my eyes and listened to his slow, deep breaths in the early morning light. Damn. A girl could get used to this sort of thing. Not me, of course, but a girl somewhere out there. Definitely not me.

Yeah, right, Murphy.

Sighing, I lifted my face from under his chin and neck, prodding him in the stomach with one finger. "Harry, wake up. Time to go."

His brow wrinkled slightly and he mumbled something unintelligible, his big hands tightening around me, drawing me closer protectively, possessively, against his chest. Well, that was counterproductive.

"Harry," I tried again. "Come on, we can't stay in bed all day."

"Yes, we can," he mumbled. "Free will."

Do _not_ laugh, Murphy. "We're working a case, remember? Do you want to get paid or not, Dresden?"

"Five more minutes," the sleepy wizard murmured, stretching slightly. To my absolute shock, he pressed a kiss to my forehead absently, as if it were a gesture of habit with a bed companion of his. Something in my chest ached. Stupid heart. Get it together.

I didn't want to hit him. I'd been mean enough to him over the last day or two. So I went with what I knew would wake him up.

"Harry," I said patiently. "Your courtesy pillow is gone."

Harry stirred, blinking slowly, his brown eyes eventually focusing on me. "Huh?"

I lifted an eyebrow. "Well, at least one part of you is awake."

Harry snapped into full consciousness and let go of me in a hurry, turning an interesting shade of red as he scooted back and yanked the comforter up over his midsection. "Jesus Christ, Murphy!"

It took a year off my life to not laugh at his reaction. "Oh, relax, Dresden. You act like I haven't been married twice."

"Yeah, well, I haven't!" he shot back, blushing clear up to his hairline.

I settled my head on one hand and batted my eyelashes. "You're cute when you're embarrassed."

"Look, don't we have a case to work? What are you doing loafing around?" he grumbled, dragging the sheets with him off the bed so he could stand up with at least some dignity intact. He stomped over to his duffel bag and grabbed his clothes, muttering mutinously as he hobbled into the bathroom and slammed the door shut.

I lay back on the bed, my hands beneath my head, grinning madly.

"Still got it, Murph."

"I heard that!"

FIN


	27. Church Bells

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a nightmare, Harry's got something on his mind involving Karrin and ringing church bells. Post Skin Game.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I HAVE SOME SERIOUS THEORIES ABOUT THE FUTURE OF MY DUMPSTER OTP AND I AM INFLICTING THEM UPON YOU MWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA.
> 
> Please enjoy.

 

_The sailors say, "Brandy, you're a fine girl,_

_What a good wife you would be_

_(Such a fine girl!)_

_Yeah, your eyes could steal a sailor_

_From the sea..."_

_-"Brandy (You're a Fine Girl)" by Looking Glass_

 

Most of the nights Harry spent in bed with Karrin were nothing but utter bliss.

But unfortunately, tonight wasn't most nights.

Harry launched upward from the bed with an angry snarl, panting for air, his dark eyes darting around in search of the danger that had been blanketing his mind in the nightmare. His huge body jostled the bed hard enough that it woke Karrin beside him. Sadly, she knew exactly what to do. It had happened before, more than once.

"Harry," Karrin said softly as she sat up, the sheets spilling down into her lap. "It's alright. You're safe."

She'd learned the hard way that touching his limbs made him violent on impulse--or rather, made the mantle violent on impulse--and instead slipped her fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck. Harry shuddered and his body went loose as he woke completely from the dream, remembering where he was and more importantly, who he was with. After the tension slid away from his shoulders, back, and arms, she scooted closer and wrapped her arms around his neck, kissing the side of his throat and pressing her warm body into his spine. Gradually, his breathing slowed. He shut his eyes and let her hold him for a while until their heartbeats synchronized and he felt like himself again.

"You're getting better," Karrin said, kissing the spot behind his ear that made him shiver. "I didn't have to tie you down this time."

Harry shot her a look over his shoulder, a tired smile on his lips. "I mean, I wouldn't have complained if you did."

"Come on, you big lug," she said, tugging him back onto the mattress. "Get some rest."

He settled onto the bed facing her this time, one long arm around her waist, his hand at the small of her back, drawing slow circles over it. She brushed his sweaty forelock out of his eyes and smiled at him without saying a word. Truth be told, it was one of the things he really liked about being with Karrin this way. They'd known each other so long sometimes they didn't need to say a word.

"Can I ask you a question?" Harry said after a while.

"Yeah."

"Do you want to get married someday?"

Karrin paled and pushed up onto one elbow, her jaw dropping. "Are...are you proposing to me?"

"No," he said, holding a hand up in supplication as he sat up. "No, I, uh, I was just...thinking ahead. Way ahead. If you're not ready to talk about that, it's okay. I sort of blurted it out."

She relaxed a little, tucking her golden hair behind her ear nervously. "Oh. I-I mean, yeah, we can talk about it. I just would have liked some warning first."

Harry winced. "Sorry."

She shook her head. "Not your fault. You're a little unbalanced after whatever you saw in that nightmare. I'm not upset."

She pulled her legs up and folded her arms over them. It made her a smaller target, and Harry nearly reached over to untangle her limbs. He didn't like it when she got defensive around him. His natural impulse was to comfort her, even in the smallest of ways, but he let her gather herself together before she spoke.

"After two marriages to guys that seemed right at the time but weren't, I don't think it's in the cards for me," Karrin said softly, not looking at him. "Not because I don't love you. I love you more than anything, even myself. I think you might actually be a good husband, and I already know you're a good father. You've done an amazing job with Maggie. You've worked so hard to make a relationship with her and to protect her to the best of your ability. You've worked even harder to protect the people who love you and you've even saved people who will never even know you exist."

She cleared her throat as it started to tighten. "When we were on that island, I told you I'm the one who has repeatedly taken relationships into icebergs. That's still true. Maybe it's not as true now that we're together and, knock on wood, ridiculously happy, but I don't think that sort of thing just goes away. Love is different. It's anything but easy. And as difficult as it can be, marriage is a thousand times harder. When you're in a relationship and you have a fight, you can storm off back to your place and brood. When you're married, it's no longer _your_ home, it's _our_ home. You have to share space. You have to share...everything, really. There's no hiding. It's a 24/7 marathon of each other and everything you do has to be in sync or the whole thing falls apart."

She took a deep breath. "We might have what it takes to make it, but things will only get harder from here. I've already started to see my own limitations. My life is winding down and yours is just winding up, for the most part. I'm not sure a ring is going to do either of us any good in the long run."

Karrin risked a glance up at him, genuinely worried about his reaction. To her relief, he wore a thoughtful expression as he digested her words carefully. He nodded and swallowed a bit before he spoke. "Okay. Good. I sort of had an idea of what you'd say, but I wanted to hear it out loud."

She bit her lip. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," he said, smiling. "You didn't break my heart or shatter any illusions I had, Karrin. I know you."

He scooted closer and drew her into his arms so she'd lean her head on his shoulder. "It's just...the nightmare kind of stirred up some old things inside me. I started thinking about the future. How important you are to me and what kind of role you might have in it. And I..."

He coughed slightly, blushing. "I sort of had a rather cinematic picture in my head of how it would go if I proposed to you."

Karrin rolled her eyes. "Why am I not surprised?"

"Well, it is _me_ we're talking about here."

"Point taken."

He chuckled. "I don't know. I guess...I had this sort of fantasy about whatever idiot beastie that was stupid enough to cross you trying to fight you and I get to bellow, 'Don't touch my wife' all heroic-like. It kind of has a nice ring to it, no pun intended."

Karrin giggled. "God, you're such a dork. Really, Harry? That's your reason for wanting to marry me?"

"Well, not entirely. I want to marry you because you're the most perfect woman in existence," he said frankly, and she blushed in spite of herself. "I want to marry you because you've been my friend for ages and you've had plentiful opportunities to ditch me, but you haven't. I want to marry you because I love who you are and what you are and what you are to me and to the world. I want to marry you because you make me want to be a better man just by existing in my general vicinity."

He tilted his head down and ran his thumb over her cheekbone. "I want to marry you, Karrin Murphy, because there is no me without you."

He kissed her gently. "And because if some creep does get off a lucky shot, I want the world to know that I was yours and you were mine, for however long we got to be together."

"Harry Dresden," she said, blinking back tears. "Closet romantic. Who knew?"

"Right?" he said, laughing a little. "I surprised myself, really."

He lifted her hand and kissed her fingertips one by one while she closed her eyes and hummed pleasantly. "But it's okay. I accept how you feel and I'm fine with it. It's an old way of thinking, after all. Although I think some singer said something to the effect of 'if you like it, then you should have put a ring on it.' "

Karrin choked on a laugh while he looked on in confusion. "What?"

"Some singer," she gasped through giggles. "Who did you hear that from?"

"Thomas. Why?"

Karrin laughed harder. "Of course Thomas listens to Beyonce."

"Be-who?"

She shook her head. "Long story. How about a compromise?"

He eyed her warily. "I'm listening."

"If for some reason we find ourselves at the end, and we both know it's the end, and we have time to come to terms with it..." She found his hand on the bed and squeezed it. "Then we'll grab ourselves a priest and get a quickie marriage. And yes, you're allowed to dramatically kneel in a field of our slain enemies and proclaim your love for me for all the powers that be to take notice. But just once, Dresden. I don't want to get a reputation. Deal?"

His brown eyes sparkled, warm and radiant like their fireplace. "Deal. Shake on it."

He offered his hand. Karrin sent him a simmering smile as her hand slunk elsewhere. "I have a better idea..."

"Hell's bells, you're gonna make a great wife someday."

FIN

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two things.
> 
> (1) Yeah, it may sound a little cynical, but I don't think Harry and Murphy are destined for marriage except under those circumstances. It just doesn't seem feasible or realistic for them at this point in their lives. Maybe earlier in the series, but not post Skin Game. I think marriage can be very important to the magical community for sure, but I think these two goobers would be fine without the old ball and chain.
> 
> (2) There is no way you can convince me that Thomas Raith doesn't love Beyonce and knows all the dance moves to "Single Ladies" because he is Thomas and he and Justine probably blast that shit in their apartment like goofballs. Headcanon accepted. There is no taking that back. IT IS IN YOUR BRAIN NOW FOREVER.


	28. Steady as She Goes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Something's different in Casa de Dresden and Thomas wants to know what it is. Post Skin Game drabble.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm super bad at calculating the timeline for The Dresden Files from Storm Front to Skin Game, so if I'm wrong about how many years it's been, let me know and I'll edit accordingly. 
> 
> I wrote this for lolz. I regret nothing. Except that Peace Talks isn't out yet. Or Brief Cases.
> 
> END THE SUFFERING, JIM. PLEASE.

_"Find yourself a girl_

_And settle down_

_Live a simple life in a quiet town_

_Steady as she goes_

_[...]_

_Your friends have shown a kink in the single life_

_You've had too much to think_

_Now you need a wife_

_Steady as she goes..."_

_-"Steady as She Goes" by the Raconteurs_

 

If there was one thing Thomas Raith prided himself on, it was his attention to detail.

It was why he was currently in his brother's apartment with a blueprint spread over the kitchen table, circling relevant entrances and exits as he explained where and how they'd move as well as the patterns the guards would be on during their break-in. Still, something felt...different. He couldn't put his finger on it. It wasn't anything in their discussion of the job; it was pretty standard and not even on the list of the top twenty most ridiculous things they'd ever been forced to do. By now, Thomas had gotten used to his brother's return even with the ever-burdensome mantle in his system. He'd gotten used to the way Harry's apartment looked: a combination of shiny, new things and old familiar things. But what the hell was it that had changed? A smell, maybe? Yeah, that sounded about right. Nothing odorous, of course. He just knew it wasn't how the place usually smelled. His heightened senses kept nagging him even as he finished explaining their route through the building.

Then, without warning, Murphy shuffled into the kitchen with sleep-tousled hair and headed straight for the coffeemaker.

Wearing one of Harry's oversized AC/DC t-shirts.

And nothing else.

Thomas' jaw unhinged from his skull.

Harry was looking down at the blueprint and saying something about the back entrance. Thomas didn't hear a word of it. He stared open-mouthed as Murphy poured herself a mug of coffee, added sugar and cream, and shuffled right back around the corner until he heard Harry's bedroom door open and close. The sound of his brother's voice finally reached his ears a moment later.

"Hey. Thomas, you with me?"

Thomas pointed a finger at the empty hallway and then back at Harry. "You...she..."

Harry arched an eyebrow. "Complete sentences, man."

Thomas wheezed for a second. "W-When?"

"When what?"

" _When did that happen?!_ " he demanded finally.

Harry sipped his coffee and shrugged. "Recently."

"Recently? And you thought this didn't merit mentioning?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "I'm sorry I forgot to put it on the bulletin board."

"Yeah, sure, it's not a big deal or anything. It's not like I've been trying to get you two morons together for the past _ten_ _years_ ," Thomas snarled, snatching his empty mug off the kitchen table and pouring a second cup, though he mostly managed to slosh it on the counter. "My idiot brother can't even bother to let me know the fruits of my labor have finally come to--"

Thomas froze. He turned around slowly and glared at the shit-eating smirk on Harry's face. "You're an _asshole_ , Harry."

"Are all vampires this dramatic or is it just you?"

Thomas stomped back over to his seat, glaring daggers. "Ass. Hole."

"My personal life is exactly that. Personal. So get over it already."

Thomas kept glaring. He lowered his gaze back to the blueprint. A moment later, he spoke again.

"So how is it?"

Harry fought down a smile, pretending to casually drink his coffee as well. "Better than I deserve."

"Good. Marry her. Now."

_"Thomas."_

"I'm not waiting another ten years for a wedding, Dresden. I'll drag you both kicking and screaming down the aisle myself if I have to. Don't test me."

"Thomas, how long do you think you can hold your breath after I bury you alive?"

"As long as I held my breath waiting for you to ask her out. Ow! Watch it with the spoon, alright?!"

FIN

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thomas understands my pain, dammit. I sort of want him finding out to either be something like this where they intentionally don't tell him just to fuck with him for meddling or I want him to have a totally over the top reaction that is worthy of Thomas Raith, who has been shipping these two morons longer than I have, for God's sake.


	29. Scars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A companion piece to "Church Bells." Sometimes Murphy has nightmares too. Post Skin Game.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It occurred to me that our badass avenging angel Murphy probably has as many bad dreams as Harry does over the years of having his back, so I think it's time to address that and also have us some fluff to soothe the angst. Because why not.

_You got wires_

_Goin' in_

_You got wires_

_Comin' out of your skin_

_You got tears_

_Makin' tracks_

_I got tears_

_That are scared of the facts_

_Running down corridors_

_Through automatic doors_

_Got to get to you_

_Got to see this through_

_I see hope is here_

_In a plastic box_

_I've seen Christmas lights_

_Reflect in your eyes..._

_-"Wires" by Athlete_

 

Most of the nights Karrin spent in bed with Harry were nothing but utter bliss.

But unfortunately, tonight wasn't most nights.

Karrin jerked hard against the bed, her limbs tightening, coiling, her hands fisting the sheets, panting hard enough that damp spots appeared in her pillow. She choked out a sound somewhere between a sob and a growl that woke Harry next to her. The wizard sat up immediately, his instincts keyed up in case there was danger, and then quickly realized the noise had come from his bed companion. Harry cursed quietly under his breath as he saw Karrin curling into a fetal position, shaking all over, and scooted closer, his hand outstretched.

"Karrin," Harry whispered, sliding his long fingers over the nape of her neck and down between her shoulders. "Karrin, wake up. It's okay."

At the sound of his calm, baritone voice, Karrin's eyelids snapped back and she sprang from the bed, dragging sheets with her. She stumbled slightly and blinked hard in the darkness of his bedroom, eventually focusing on what she saw there after a moment or two. Harry slid to the edge of the bed, but didn't rise. He watched as she slowly came to complete awareness and offered her a small, sympathetic smile.

"Hey. It's alright. We're safe."

Karrin raked her tangled blonde hair out of her face and nodded. "Yeah. Sorry I woke you."

"You good?"

She took a couple of deep breaths and nodded again. Harry opened his arms to her. She shuffled between his long legs and let him wrap his arms around her, pressing her forehead to his shoulder, breathing in the scent of his skin, cologne, and aftershave. Memories washed over her and Harry felt the tension in her spine slowly draining away until she was relaxed against him.

"What was it?" he murmured, brushing her hair behind one ear. "Chichen Itza?"

Karrin shook her head slightly and looped her arms around his neck. "The dock. Before you..."

Harry sighed. "Sorry."

She shrugged. "They're just dreams. I'll be alright."

"That you will," he said, his tone light, almost playful. "My warrior woman."

Karrin snorted. "If you start calling me Wonder Woman, I'm out of here."

"You're no fun, you know that?" He kissed the top of her head. "Come on, you're getting cold. Back in bed with me, gorgeous."

He tugged the covers back onto the bed and slid over so she could fit next to him. They settled into the nest of pillows and underneath Karrin's grandmother's knit blanket. Karrin allowed Harry to fold her up in his arms. She was still a little too spooked to sleep, but at least being nestled under the sheets, warm and safe, made her feel better. She shut her eyes and listened to him breathe, sighing wistfully as his fingertips traced the various scars on her skin beneath the loose t-shirt. Some nights when she couldn't sleep, he'd ask her about each one. She'd tell him the story and often that helped her drift back off. His thumb grazed a scar on her hip about the size of a miniature Snickers bar.

"Hawaii," she said without opening her eyes.

"Hrmph," Harry snorted.

Karrin grinned. "It's cute that you're still jealous."

"Always will be," Harry grunted. "I've never stopped kicking myself for not stopping you that day."

She wiggled a bit until she could see his scowling face in the pale light from a nearby streetlamp. "What makes you think you could have stopped me at all?"

"Point taken," he admitted. "Once you've got your mind set to do something, there's pretty much nothing on hell or earth that'll prevent it, but..."

He shrugged. "I felt like you were asking me something and I didn't know it at the time. Then as I thought about it more over the years, maybe it could have gone a different way."

She watched him carefully from beneath her lashes. "So you regret it?"

"No. As much as I hate it, I think Hawaii needed to happen. If it hadn't, I probably wouldn't have had an epiphany the way I did."

She smirked. "You mean you didn't already have an epiphany when Kincaid took my pants off?"

"That doesn't count. I was mostly confused and angry. The epiphany didn't hit until you drove off and I wanted to set the bastard on fire and scatter his ashes in Mouse's Special Spot in the backyard."

Karrin smothered a laugh behind her hand. "Gee, Harry, you sure know how to romance a girl."

He waggled his eyebrows. "I put Humphrey Bogart to shame."

His brow wrinkled a moment later. "Hey, wait a minute. I just realized I don't think I've ever seen you get jealous on my behalf. I'm hurt, Murph."

She rolled her eyes. "You would be."

"What? I'm not asking for much. There had to be just one tiny moment where you felt a little jealous that I was getting romantic attention."

"No," she sniffed. "That never happened. Not once."

Harry pouted and she fought down a giggle. "Never?"

"Ever," she confirmed. She shut her eyes. They lay there in silence for a bit. Karrin cracked one eyelid.

"...alright, so _maybe_ I wasn't crazy about that fling you had with Luccio."

"I _knew_ it."

She punched him in the ribs lightly. Harry chuckled. "At last. Vindication. The great and powerful Murphy admits to harboring feelings for her lowly wizard consultant. Cue dramatic romantic music by Celine Dion."

"Does it have to be Celine Dion?" she groaned. "Can you at least meet me halfway with Whitney Houston?"

"Done." He kissed her. "You've made me the happiest wizard alive, Murph."

"Idiot. Go back to sleep."

He snuggled closer, resting his chin on her bed-ruffled blonde locks. "Gladly. Night."

"Night."

She counted the beats of his heart until she heard his voice once more, soft with emotion. "Love you."

Karrin smiled into his chest. "Love you too."

And then she slept just fine.

FIN

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really do lament that the stories are in Harry's POV because I would LOVE to see jealous!Murphy in-canon rather than just my own musing. She really did mention that she didn't think Luccio was right for Harry, but that could be interpreted as advice from a best friend moreso than being jealous. Murphy's above anything so petty, but I still think it would be hella cute to see her get protective of her wizard when another woman sets their sights on him. 
> 
> ...dammit, is Brief Cases here yet?!


	30. Love & War

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's really not a good idea to threaten Karrin Murphy where a certain wizard can hear you.

_"Think twice 'fore you touch my girl_

_Come around_

_I'll let ya feel the burn_

_Think twice 'fore you touch my girl_

_Come around, come around, no more..."_

_-"Think Twice" by Eve 6_

 

Karrin Murphy opened the door to her office after Rawlins knocked and accepted the clipboard he handed to her for her signature. She flicked her gaze up as she noticed the people in the S.I. department scattering from the small group they'd been in and she could hear them chuckling. Some were sending her amused glances while trying to hide behind their manila folders.

"What's with them?" she asked coolly.

"Oh, they're in a good mood from something Dresden pulled just a while ago with this arrest."

Murphy arched an eyebrow. "Which was?"

Rawlins cleared his throat, and she could see his mouth pulling to one side as he tried not to grin. "Nothing major. Just an...altercation with the suspect."

Murphy stared at him. "Rawlins."

"Yes'm?"

"Any chance you want to explain further?"

"I can...but you have to promise not to get angry first."

She narrowed her blue eyes at him. "Why would I be angry?"

He scratched his chin. "No reason. Come with me."

She scowled as he went to his desk and picked up a recorder--the kind that was small and thin to be hidden in the lining of a coat while an undercover cop was busting a suspect. He beckoned her and she followed him back into her office, shutting the door.

"So we had one guy undercover with Dresden while he went to get a confession. That went as you'd expect it to go and our guy made the arrest. Apparently, the suspect got confrontational with Dresden after he was busted, and well..."

He cleared his throat and hit the Play button.

 _"--think you're so invincible, don't you, Dresden?"_ The aggravated male voice snarled. Murphy could hear movement, as if he were struggling against his handcuffs. _"Think you're untouchable, huh? Well, maybe you are. But that little blonde bitch you work for ain't."_

Thick silence pervaded the air for a few seconds. She heard cloth rustling, as if Harry had turned around. Then, his deep voice rather calmly responded with:  _"I'm sorry. What was that?"_

 _"Oh, yeah,"_ the suspect snickered. _"That lady cop. Murphy. I know exactly what I could do to her to make her squeal real good. Then we'll see who's laughing, asshole."_

Another pause. Harry spoke again, still unnervingly composed. _"Henry?"_

 _"Yes?"_ the undercover cop answered.

_"Would you mind grabbing me a Coke out of that vending machine around the corner?"_

Another pause. _"Actually, Dresden, I'm thirsty myself. Be happy to do that for ya."_

 _"Thanks, man."_ Footsteps echoed away. Obviously, the recorder hadn't gone with him; perhaps it was sitting on top of the cop car. Then Harry's big, heavy footfalls filled the air. The recording squeaked as he got closer and static popped constantly, but she could still hear. 

 _"Oh, what? You gonna threaten me now, Dresden?"_ the suspect scoffed. _"Did I hit a sore spot? Go on, slug me. It's not gonna change what I'll do to her."_

She heard the familiar sound of Harry's duster settling around him. _"Let me explain something to you real quick, friend. Lieutenant Murphy isn't the kind of woman you threaten. She's the kind of woman who keeps guys like you awake at night. She doesn't arrest people. She hunts them down and she puts the fear of God in them. You'll never even see her coming. And if you do, you'll be begging for the cuffs by the time she's done with you."_

The leather duster creaked again. Maybe he'd leaned down a little. Harry's voice went from deceptively calm to subarctic cold. _"But if I hear her name leave your mouth ever again, hell, if you even dare to think it on some cold dark night from that prison cell you'll be rotting in for the rest of your life...I will light you up like a Roman candle and burn a fucking crater into the earth where you used to be."_

An audible gulp sounded next. Footsteps again, probably Henry returning from the Coke machine. Harry's voice snapped right back to jovial. _"Thanks for the Coke, man. Take it easy."_

_"You too, Dresden."_

Rawlins turned off the recorder. Murphy had one hand over her face, her teeth clenched, and her cheeks pink. Rawlins didn't try to hide the chuckle this time.

"Now, Murphy, you promised..."

"I'm. Going. To. _Kill_. Him."

"Aw, don't do that. Then you'll ruin the office pool we got goin' and I lose a cool fifty bucks."

"You die first."

Rawlins grinned and opened the door to her office, sending a wink over his shoulder. "All's fair in love and war, Lieutenant."

FIN

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rawlins ships the fuck outta Karrin and Harry and no one can tell me otherwise. 
> 
> Also, I'm sorry, I have the biggest weakness for Harry threatening people who threaten Murphy. Mostly because he doesn't need to do it, but boy, if you push him there, he will fucking go there. 
> 
> I REGRET NOTHING. *cartwheels into the Harry/Murphy trashpile*


	31. Hardhearted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thomas wants to get to know Murphy better. He bites off a little more than he can chew. Pun slightly intended.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was truly enchanted with a scene in the series of Thomas and Murphy playing chess. That sounds adorable. Then I thought about the fact that we haven't really seen them bonding since the series is told through Harry's POV, so we don't actually know if they hang out at all with Harry not around. I wanted to play around with that dynamic and see how they'd interact without our goofy wizard in the mix and this is the result.
> 
> And you'll see why this counts as Harry/Murphy momentarily.

_"They call her hardhearted Hannah_  
_The vamp of Savannah_  
_The meanest girl in town_  
_Leather is tough_  
_But Hannah's heart is tougher_  
_She's a gal who likes to see men suffer_  
_To tease 'em_  
_And thrill 'em_  
_To torture and kill 'em_  
_Mm, is her delight, they say_  
_I saw her at the seashore with a great big pan_  
_There was Hannah pouring water on a drowning man_  
_That's hardhearted Hannah_  
_The vamp of Savannah, GA..."_  
_-"Hardhearted Hannah" by Ray Charles_

"Hey, Murph?"

"Yeah?"

"Let's go get a drink."

Murphy glanced up from the chessboard at the White Court vampire smiling at her. "What?"

"Just you and me," Thomas said. "We've never done that before."

Murphy eyed him. "Is that a line, Raith?"

Thomas rolled his eyes. "Like I'm dumb enough to waste a line on you."

She returned her gaze to the chessboard, taking his bishop with her knight. "What's the occasion?"

"No occasion. No tricks, no treats, no agenda. Honest. I just want to grab a drink with you, that's all."

Murphy pursed her lips as he took one of her pawns next. "Mac's?"

"Sounds perfect."

She sighed. "Alright, fine. But you're buying."

Thomas grinned and stood up. "Of course. I'm nothing if not a gentleman."

She shook her head and scooped up her jacket from the couch. Thomas climbed down the ladder to Harry's lab, where the wizard stood in his bathrobe, tinkering with potions. "Hey, loser. We'll be back later."

"Fine," Harry said dismissively. Then he paused. "Wait, we?"

"Yeah, I'm buying Murphy a drink."

Harry turned very slowly and stared at his brother with pure murder in his brown eyes. Thomas laughed heartily. "You never disappoint, bro. Do you really think that little of me?"

"Less," Harry said, attempting to unclench his jaw.

"Get a grip. I'll bring her back in a couple of hours."

Harry deliberately got an old wind up clock down from the shelf and set it for two hours, glaring daggers. "Exactly one hundred and twenty minutes, Thomas."

Thomas shook his head and climbed back up. "Whatever, jerk. Bye."

He opened the door for Murphy, who sent him a nasty look while he chuckled, and they took his Hummer to Mac's. It was a week night around dinner time, so the place was busy, but not crowded. They took a seat at the bar--Murphy insisted, since otherwise it would look like they were on a date--and ordered burgers and beer. They both finished a whole bottle before either of them spoke.

"So," Murphy said, cracking open a peanut. "Something on your mind?"

"More or less," Thomas replied, popping one in his mouth as well. "Guess I realized after all this time we've been working together and neither of us have held a conversation with each other that didn't involve my idiot brother. It's not a crime if I want to get to know you, right?"

"No," she said, glancing at him obliquely. "But why now? You could have said something before. Way before, in fact."

Thomas shrugged. "Was waiting for the right time. Don't know if you know this, Murph, but you're kind of prickly."

She smirked. "It must have escaped my notice. What do you want to know?"

"I have a pretty good idea what you're about. I respect the hell out of you and what you do. I've never met a woman quite like you before and I didn't want you to think I just tolerate you because of Harry."

She slid to one side slightly, looking at him dead on this time, her expression careful. "And what if I just tolerate you because of Harry?"

Thomas shrugged. "I can live with that. Nobody said you had to cooperate. Just figured I'd try."

He crunched on the next peanut, watching her from beneath his lashes coolly. They held each other's gaze a while before Mac appeared with their burgers. They ate in silence.

Murphy wiped her mouth with a napkin and finished her second beer. "I've been married twice."

Thomas glanced at her. "Really?"

She nodded. "I was very young the first time. Second time was with someone I worked with. Sounded perfect at the time, but it unraveled. I moved up in the ranks and he couldn't handle being number two in my life. He wanted a family. I didn't. So he moved on and so did I."

"How did that go?"

A bitter smile touched her lips. "He married my sister."

Thomas choked on the last bite of his burger. He pounded his chest until he cleared his windpipe and washed it down with the remainder of his beer. He wiped his mouth and managed not to gape at her, but he'd gotten slightly paler. "You've got to be fucking kidding me."

Murphy shrugged. Thomas shook his head. "Between you and Harry, how the hell is he still breathing?"

"Copious amounts of self control," she said, beckoning Mac for another round. "Also, murder is illegal."

"Yeah, only if you get caught," Thomas groused, popping open the bottles for both of them with quick, angry gestures. "Trust me, there are ways we could make him disappear that they'd never find out."

Murphy snorted. "You sound like Harry."

"We're related, but don't tell anybody. I have a reputation to uphold."

"Of course."

They drank. "Let me know if you change your mind. Christ. How dumb can a guy be to let a woman like you out of his sight?"

"Are you always this flirty?"

"I'm not, Murphy," he said mildly. "Trust me, if I were flirting with you, you'd know it."

She rolled her eyes. "Lay off, pretty boy. Like I'd fall for it."

Thomas grinned. "True. I take it you like them tougher. You know, tall, dark, and snarky."

She glared. "Choose your next words carefully, Raith."

"What?" he said innocently. "I'm just guessing. Do you actually know someone like that, Murphy?"

"Cram it, Thomas."

He laughed lightly. "Like I said, Murph. Prickly."

"I think that's enough about me for now. What about you? What should I know about you, Thomas? Aside from the massive ego, too tight t-shirts, and ridiculous choice of transportation?"

He glanced at her, analyzing her tone. She'd actually meant it, in spite of the insults. He took another pull from the bottle, his voice measured and even. "Before I really understood what I was...I wanted to do what you do."

Murphy blinked at him, shocked. "Be a cop?"

He nodded. "Yeah. When I was young, I thought detectives were amazing. They seemed fearless. Always going after the bad guy, never stopping until they found justice for the victims. A lot of kids idolize them. Didn't take long before I realized a White Court vampire couldn't do that, but it was a nice fantasy while it lasted."

"Detective Raith does have a nice ring to it," she admitted.

He smirked, but she could see a shadow of sadness in it. "Yeah."

"How old were you when you found out it couldn't happen?"

"Dunno. Maybe...eight? Can't really uphold truth, justice, and the American way when you eat people."

He felt her gaze on him as he took another sip. He didn't want to see what rested in her eyes, whether it was pity or sympathy.

"You do alright for yourself," Murphy said quietly. "You try. That's more than a lot of people I know."

"People," he said, turning his gaze on her finally. "Or monsters?"

She didn't look away. "Both."

Thomas smiled and held out his bottle. She clinked the neck of hers against his and they finished their last round.

It was cold out when they left. Thomas offered her his scarf, but she politely refused, which made him laugh a bit as they walked down the sidewalk towards his Hummer. After a moment or two, Thomas heaved a sigh and cursed under his breath.

"So," he said casually. "Exactly how hard would you hit me if I, due to extenuating circumstances, had to kiss you right now?"

Murphy arched an eyebrow, her voice dry. "Fairly hard."

Thomas nodded. "I figured as much."

He leaned into her side, dropping his voice further. "Three blocks up to the right."

She followed his direction and spotted a shadow, which quickly vanished a second later. "I see him. Who is it?"

"No doubt someone in my cousin's employment," Thomas said, sneaking an arm around her shoulder and smiling as if they were sharing a joke. "She's been sending these clowns after me for the past month. I keep a low profile, but someone must have spotted me when we hit town."

"Hummers aren't exactly inconspicuous, Thomas."

"Prickly."

She snorted. "Is he human?"

"No. Humans are too slow. She always sends distant relatives."

"No killing," she warned, her voice hard. "Get me?"

"Aye aye, Lieutenant."

Murphy sighed. "Where exactly does the kissing come in?"

"People who are too stupid not to wear AXE cologne while stalking their target are also too stupid not to fall for the old Fakeout Makeout. He thinks he'll have an opening to make an attack and we get the element of surprise."

"Or we could just keep walking down the street and you use your super speed when we get there."

"That too, but one wrong move and we might lose him. Your call, Murph."

They walked another block. She reached into her jacket pocket and offered him an Altoid. He gave her an offended look and she stared at him defiantly.

"You have beer breath, Raith."

"Hardy-har," he grumbled, popping it into his mouth. He felt slightly better as she did the same and they walked another block.

"I feel tongue, I shoot you," she whispered as they neared the corner with the assailant hiding behind it.

Thomas clucked his tongue, gently pushing her back against a lamp post near the Hummer, his grey eyes sparkling with good humor and predatory anticipation. "Murphy, do you really think so little of me?"

"Less," she said, and then he kissed her.

For whatever reason, perhaps watching too many movies or too much TV, she'd expected his lips to be cold. They weren't. They were soft and minty and warm. All things considered, it wasn't half bad. He stroked her cheek with his hand, sliding it down her shoulder and around her back.

Underneath the jacket...to the holster at the small of her back.

Thomas slipped Murphy's gun free and whirled, popping the suspect in the kneecap.

The guy shrieked and stumbled back into a trash can, overturning it. He heard the clunk of something metal on the pavement as the guy tried to hobble the other way. Thomas handed Murphy her gun and tore after the assailant, tackling him face first into a pile of shredded files. He spit the bits of paper out of his mouth and wrestled the guy's arms behind his back, finding pale skin and dark hair underneath him, the telltale signs of a Raith.

"Benicio," Thomas said politely. "Nice night for a walk, isn't it?"

The smaller man struggled, but Thomas kept him pinned. "I didn't do anything! You shot me!"

Thomas angled his head towards the mouth of the alley. "Murphy?"

"Glock 19," she said, unloading the weapon he'd dropped. "Hollow point rounds."

"That's circumstantial!" Benicio spat. "Won't hold up in court."

Thomas rolled his eyes. "Like you're really going to report this to police and let my cousin find out there's a paper trail. She'd shred you like a pork sandwich."

"Then let me go!"

"Well, we are already in an alley full of garbage," Thomas said with exaggerated laziness. "Why don't I just kill you and dispose of the body instead?"

Benicio writhed. "She'll kill you for this!"

"If she keeps sending people as stupid as you, I doubt it," he said coldly. "Now here's what you're going to do. You're going to limp your ass back to that Mercedes and you're going to drive home and tell her that if she wants it done right, she can do it herself. If I ever see you again in this city, I'm not going to stop at a kneecap."

He leaned down until his lips were a fraction of an inch from the vampire's ear. "Do you understand me?"

Benicio gritted his teeth, but nodded tightly. Thomas considered him and then calmly dislocated his shoulder. He clapped a hand over the man's mouth as he screamed and then spoke once more.

"That was for ruining our evening. Now get out of my sight."

He stood. Benicio rolled to one side, nursing the injured half of his body, but hurriedly limped off into the darkness. Once he was gone, Thomas straightened his suit jacket and faced Murphy, unsure of what to expect. She watched him calmly from under her lashes. He cleared his throat and tucked his hands into his pockets, matching her remote expression.

"Alright, let me have it."

"I was right before," Murphy said. "You wouldn't have been half bad as a detective, Raith."

Thomas blinked. Then, a small smile slowly crept over his lips. "Thanks, Murph."

She regarded him for another moment and then holstered her gun. "Karrin."

She turned and walked towards the car. He trailed after her, grinning widely.

They pulled back up to Harry's apartment and got out, walking down the steps.

"So you're not mad at me about the kiss, right?"

Murphy snorted again. "If you call that a kiss."

Thomas scoffed. "Excuse me. What's your definition of a--"

Murphy snatched the edge of his scarf and laid one on him. Then she winked at him, turned, opened the door to the apartment, and disappeared inside. Thomas stood on the welcome mat, speechless, for several seconds. Eventually, he resumed control over his faculties and went inside to find Harry in the kitchen making coffee.

"Welcome back," Harry said, his eyes narrowed. "Have fun?"

Thomas strode right up to his brother and grabbed the lapels of his bathrobe, jerking him close.

"Marry that woman. _Now_."

He let go and stalked away towards the bathroom, muttering curses about his idiot brother under his breath while Murphy sat on the couch, drinking coffee and smiling smugly. Harry walked into the den and pointed in Thomas' direction.

"What was _that_ about?"

FIN

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part of the reason why I think Thomas ships Harry/Murphy so hard is because he's completely blown away by her and thinks Harry is insane for not chasing after her. 
> 
> P.S. Picturing the look Harry gave Thomas when he said they were going out for a drink made me die laughing. Just so you all know that. Jealous Harry is the best Harry.


	32. What Mirrors Don't See

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What if the infamous Dream from Chapter 14 of Skin Game had happened to Karrin Murphy instead of Harry Dresden?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *clears throat* It is physically impossible for me to write a sex scene as hot as Chapter 14 of Skin Game.
> 
> BUT YOU GODDAMN RIGHT I TRIED ANYWAY.
> 
> *cackles madly*
> 
> (Smut warning, obviously.)

_"You speak your fear_  
_Thinking in circles_  
_And checking what mirrors don't see_  
_You live your life like a page from the book of my fantasy_  
_How I love you..."_  
_-"Baby" by Warpaint_

Karrin Murphy found that there was a certain reassurance in cleaning a gun. She knew the names of every part and just the right way to get it functioning perfectly, but in truth, it was just muscle memory. She found comfort in performing the same movements over and over again, knowing that it was something she could control and perfect. She didn't have to question the gun. She didn't have to worry about its allegiance. She could just make these simple gestures and it would be ready for the next battle at her side.

She also found herself wishing more things were as simple as cleaning her gun.

The door to her bedroom shut and Karrin jumped slightly, reaching for her P90, but then Harry gave her a small, tired smile. "Hey."

"Hey," she said, relaxing. Then she frowned and checked her watch. "What are you still doing up?"

Harry shook his head. "Couldn't sleep. Mind's too cluttered."

She arched an eyebrow as he shuffled over to sit beside her on the couch. "What? There's no fancy wizard trick for that?"

"Not one I feel like performing right now," Harry sighed, brushing his dark hair out of his eyes. All things considered, he looked better. Maybe he hadn't slept long, but he'd gotten a bit of rest. She could always tell by the light in his brown eyes. When he was sharp and alert, she could almost see her reflection in them, for the few seconds she was allowed to look into them directly. Part of her lamented being forced to look away. She liked Harry's eyes. She always had.

Harry nodded towards her gun. "What are you still doing up?"

"Considering the nature of what we're attempting, I wanted everything cleaned and ready before bed," Karrin answered. "Otherwise I'd toss and turn all night thinking about getting it done."

"You know, I've seen you do this a million times and I have no idea what's going on."

She smiled. "Well, now's a good time for a crash course, Indiana Jones."

His eyes gleamed then. "You are so hot right now."

She chuckled. "Dork."

Harry moved closer to her and she explained the parts to the Sig as well as what she had already cleaned. He handed her parts or cleaning supplies here and there and she told him why it was important to perform certain steps and how often she did it to ensure the weapon would always fire, and fire quickly at that. He asked her about his revolver and she went through how she maintained her father's collection, that she'd learned a great deal of it from watching him, and even her mother knew how to keep a gun expertly cleaned.

"I really should take you to a range sometime," Murphy said once the Sig was assembled completely and resting on the coffee table next to its ammo. "You're not a bad shot, Dresden, but you could use some work."

"Now there's an idea for a first date," Harry teased. "Getting my ass handed to me by the best shot in all of Chicago. How will my ego ever recover?"

She rolled her eyes. "You'll make due, I'm sure."

She reached for the little worn, splotched cleaning cloth to wipe off her hands, but Harry got there first. He lifted it, angling himself towards her, his expression soft and thoughtful. "May I?"

Karrin risked a glance up at him, reading him. She nodded. He took her left hand and gently wiped it clean from her wrists up to her fingertips. The oil was slightly harder to get off than the gun powder residue. His touch was careful, steady, thorough. She felt her pulse fluttering faster and faster along her throat. There was an unspoken intimacy to the gesture that she hadn't been ready for. Or maybe she was and she'd underestimated how it made her feel.

He picked up her right hand, and after a while, he spoke softly. "Thank you."

"For what?" she asked. "Gun Cleaning 101?"

"No," he whispered. "What you're doing. Backing me up in the middle of all this."

She shrugged one shoulder. "It isn't any different from what we've done before."

"True, but...I just want you to know that I do appreciate it. Always have. I don't have a right to ask you the things that I do, but you're always there and ready. It's kept me grounded, in a way."

She laid her free hand on top of his as he wiped away the last bit of gun powder on her palm. "You act like you haven't done the same thing for me, Harry. You know better. We don't keep score. We just work it out, however long it takes, no matter how hard it gets."

"Yeah," he agreed, lowering the cloth back to the table, but keeping their hands clasped. He rubbed his thumb along the back of hers. It tickled. "But...lately I've been thinking about just how long it's taken and maybe we should finally do something about that."

Murphy's pulse skyrocketed. She swallowed hard. "Do what?"

Harry lifted her arm and kissed her palm. She inhaled quickly, suppressing the urge to shudder at the warmth from his lips and the pleasant scratch of his stubble over her fingertips. His eyes were shut, as if he were concentrating completely on that single touch, and it gave her the perfect opportunity to study the golden light of the lamp across his skin and the way it caught in his dark, bed-ruffled hair. Her gaze slid down his jaw to his neck, his neck to the bare peek of his collarbone under the simple white t-shirt, the outline of his pecs and abs, the long line of his narrow hips in the sweatpants. Had it really been that long since she looked at Harry? He seemed so different now, and yet the way he spoke and moved was comfortably familiar, even with the constant pressure of the Winter mantle.

When she didn't pull away or protest, Harry exhaled and slid her thumb past his lips into his hot mouth. Murphy didn't suppress a shudder this time. Her body arched slightly in response to the sensuality in that one gesture. He sucked her thumb, turning her hand to one side, following along with her index finger, middle, ring finger, and pinky one at a time.

He kissed the inside of her wrist and it burned in all the right ways, sending thrills zinging straight down her arm to her breasts beneath her oversized CPD t-shirt and beneath her shorts. She cupped the side of his face and leaned forward, catching those soft lips with her own.

Harry groaned in his throat, kissing her back hungrily, his tongue parting her lips. Karrin wound her arms around his neck and tugged him closer as the kiss deepened. In seconds, she ended up pressed down into the cushions on the couch with Harry's lanky frame straddling her, shoving pillows out of the way in his haste. She couldn't help arching into him as he settled the heavy weight of his body across her small, slender frame, and a gasping moan escaped as she felt the pressure of his hardening cock through the sweatpants. She nearly whimpered as it left a moment later, but then she realized why; he was moving lower. He broke from her lips and kissed her neck, licking over the column of her throat, grazing it just barely with his teeth. She panted out his name as he nipped at her chest through the cotton t-shirt, his big hands gliding down her waist until he reached the hem of her shorts.

He glanced up at her and she nodded almost frantically in consent, trying to control the way her body trembled with anticipation. He swept the shorts off her legs, the panties next, and pushed her knees apart. A low, feral growl rolled through him as his eyes beheld her naked from the waist down and Karrin bit back another moan at the unchecked lust on his features. Harry paused to shuck off his own shirt and then caught her lithe, powerful legs in both hands, propping them up on his shoulders as he leaned all the way down until he was flush to her.

He licked her.

Karrin gripped two handfuls of the cushion on either side of her body. _"Harry."_

His hot, hot tongue traced over her slit as if taking stock, and he licked his lips once, exhaling a sigh of pure satisfaction, as if he'd been waiting eons to taste her and it was heavenly. He trailed his tongue all the way up and circled her clit once, teasingly, and then swept back down until he parted her inner walls. He fell upon her like a man dying of thirst, his lips caressing her in between the thrusts of his tongue, which were slow, deliberate, and unbelievably patient. He stroked her like he had all the time in the world, the way he stroked out notes on his guitar, so careful and with his whole attention to every little detail. Murphy's nails scraped the couch cushions, her mouth hanging open, choking out a litany of gasps and moans as the pleasure pulsed through her from head to toe. That devious mouth scraped over her spot again and she pushed up on her elbows, frantic and flushed.

"God, Harry, please!" She gripped his shoulders in warning. Harry glanced up at her through his wily, mussed hair, and grinned without saying anything. He just winked and closed the searing wet cavern of his mouth over her clit right as he slid two fingers inside her.

Murphy came.

Harder than she'd ever come in her entire life.

She collapsed to the couch as the orgasm rode her, and even as it did, Harry's fingers sunk into rhythm, following her over the precipice, his mouth lapping at her spot. She buried her hands in his hair, gasping harder, muttering complete nonsense as he brought her again. He did her in with an expertly timed bite over her clit and she spun off into ecstasy a second time, her toes curling.

Murphy stirred a moment or two later, her limbs completely boneless, the world runny and soft around the edges as she floated through the afterglow. She blinked the veil of lethargy aside to see Harry above her, grinning wolfishly as he licked his fingers clean. For once, she couldn't blame him for being smug. She'd build him a statue in his honor if she could, after that performance.

"God," Murphy said hoarsely, reaching her arms up to tug him down for a kiss. "Why the hell didn't I let you do that to me years ago?"

"The world may never know," Harry mused, pushing his big hands underneath her t-shirt. She moaned as he squeezed her breasts through the bra and nudged the cups aside, teasing her nipples harder underneath them. She growled and yanked both the shirt and the bra off.

Harry shuddered, muttering around the passionate kisses she pressed to his lips. "Bed?"

"We'll get there eventually," Murphy panted back, ripping his sweatpants from his hips. She almost cried out with joy at the reveal beneath his pants. She didn't waste a second wrapping her fingers around his cock, enjoying the way he moaned her name and folded his huge frame around her. She knew it would be easier on him for them to flip positions, but she didn't care. She wanted it this way; to feel the weight of his body atop her, after all this time, after all this waiting, after years of denying the way he made her feel with a single look, a single smile, a single laugh. He drove her crazy and she _wanted_ to go insane.

He broke from her lips, his dark eyes glittering in the lamp light with eagerness and hunger and reverence, but she could see the softness of concern there as well. "Karrin, are you sure?"

A fierce smile overtook her lips. "Shut up, Dresden."

She lifted her hips enough to swing her legs up around his waist and pulled him inside her, hard.

Harry moaned her name into her mouth. It was the most beautiful damned thing she'd ever heard.

And the way he felt inside her was the most beautiful damned thing she'd ever felt.

Stars burst across the back of her eyelids. She could see galaxies and comets and the scope and shape of the universe for those first few glorious seconds of Harry's cock guiding its way into her. She clung to him, her fingernails making little crescent moons in the hard plains of his back, a scream climbing up her throat to pour into his mouth. Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, Harry Dresden felt _good_ inside her.

Karrin's eyes rolled back as he pulled out, almost completely, and couldn't help but whimper from the sudden loss. He didn't leave her long. He slid in again, just as slow, drinking in every last wondrous second of being connected with her. She bit his lower lip and he growled, planting those big hands on the couch, rising to her challenge. He slammed in again. Withdrew. Slammed in. Withdrew. Slammed in. Over and over. A metronome of hot, heavy, inescapable pleasure.

She gripped his forearms and leaned her head back, rolling her hips at the apex of every hard thrust, a delirious smile crawling over her slightly swollen lips as he kissed and sucked at her neck, fucking her thoroughly, deeply, sending golden bursts of sensation racing through her veins. This was it. Everything she'd ever wanted and who she wanted it with. And it was so worth the wait.

Murphy bit her lower lip as he added an insidious twisting motion to every stroke, trying not to scream, but she knew she didn't have much longer. She wanted it to continue forever. She wanted to damn near die this way, wrapped in suffocating ecstasy.

"Murphy," Harry whispered in a rough, sing-song voice. "I want you to come for me, Murphy."

He picked up speed, and the slap of skin on skin made her toes curl once more. She shook her head, licking her lips, her flushed body arching into him. "Mm, no, not yet."

He sucked her ear lobe into his mouth, his voice like crushed black velvet over her ear drums. "Come for me, Karrin. You know you want to. You're so wet around me. You want to come. You want me to make you come."

If there was anything hotter on the planet than Harry Blackstone Copperfield Dresden telling her to come, Karrin sure as hell didn't know it existed. Her body twisted, contorted, as he fucked her harder still, grazing her spot at long last. She threw her head back, her mouth flying open to scream his name---

And then she woke up on the couch.

Karrin sat up, blinking rapidly in confusion in the dim light of the lamp in her den. She glanced down the length of the couch, expecting to see a naked, spent Harry Dresden on the other end, but there was nothing but couch pillows. She swept her sweaty blonde hair out of her eyes and stared around, slowly realizing it had been a damned dream.

"Oh, come on!" Karrin snarled. "That is ri-goddamned- _diculous!_ "

A second later, the door to her bedroom opened and Harry came skidding across the floor, half-sleep but ready for action. He glanced around the room, seeing nothing but Karrin lying on the couch with both hands over her face. He arched an eyebrow.

"Uh, you okay, Murph?"

"Fine," she groaned. "Just...fine."

"Do I even wanna know?"

She sighed and dropped her hands in her lap, where she was so damned wet she'd probably be stuck to the couch for the foreseeable future. "God, do you ever."

"What?"

"Nothing. Go back to bed, Harry."

She waited to hear his heavy footsteps heading away from her, but to her surprise, they weren't. She tilted her head up and spotted the upside down version of Harry Dresden as he leaned down.

And kissed her full on the mouth.

She blushed, staring up at him in shock. He gave her a knowing look, a wink, and a grin.

"See you in the morning, Murphy."

Then he sauntered his half-naked self back into her bedroom and closed the door.

But honestly, after that kiss, she didn't really mind.

FIN

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Dwayne "The Rock" Johnson voice* "So what can I saaaaay except you're welcome!" 
> 
> God, that was fun as hell to write. Here's to Murphy gettin' some in Peace Talks, because if anyone is deserving of multitudinous orgasms, it's Karrin goddamn Murphy. But only if Harry is the one giving them.
> 
> *cha-cha slides back into the HarriKarri garbage bin*


	33. Mischief Managed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry and Murphy track a serial killer on Halloween night. Murphy's feeling a little mischievous this year. Pre-Changes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly, one of the first moments I should have known would lead to me shipping Harry/Murphy was our gangly moron of a wizard lying on the floor of Murphy's office after passing out and telling her, "Do you have a little white dress? I have this deep-seated nurse fantasy about you, Murphy." My God, that is one of my favorite moments of the two of them in Storm Front. He is such a dumb dork. This is mostly just me and Murphy mocking him in a combined effort. 
> 
> Because, let's face it, Murphy would totally do this for the lolz.

It wasn't often that Karrin Murphy could render Harry Dresden completely speechless, but she had to admit this was one of her finer moments accomplishing that goal.

"Wild party," she said nonchalantly, her eyebrows raised as she glanced over the club. Its walls literally vibrated with how loud the music had gotten by now. It was half past midnight on All Hallow's Eve, and every freak and geek had come out to play, including a warlock with a penchant for strangling blonde women and posing them in various Halloween costumes for the cops to find. Once they'd figured out the perp was a practitioner, Harry had suggested they canvased one of the biggest club scenes in Chicago to hunt him down.

"Uh," Harry said, his jaw to the floor, his cheeks practically glowing crimson even in the dark.

"Looks like it's his kind of M.O," Murphy continued, adjusting her thigh strap. She checked the pistol's chambers, snapped it closed, and fit the small gun into its hidden holster. Coincidentally, doing so exposed her fishnet stockings all the way up to her upper thigh, as well as the white platform heels on her feet. It'd been damned hard to drive in these things, she'd noted.

"Uh," Harry elaborated.

"If we find the guy, I can have a patrol car here in less than ten," Murphy said. "Force him out back, away from civilians, and then hopefully the takedown won't be too messy. I'll try to hook him and you back me up."

"Uh-huh," Harry said dumbly.

She placed her hands on her hips, feigning complete innocence. "Is there a problem, Dresden?"

Harry lifted a hand and pointed, swallowing hard. "Y-You're wearing a _costume_ , Murph."

Again, she lifted an eyebrow. "It's a costume party, Harry."

"You're wearing a slutty nurse costume, Murph."

"I'm vaguely aware of that fact, seeing as I bought it, Harry."

"But you...and it...Murphy, _you're wearing a slutty nurse costume._ "

She shifted her weight slightly. Her posture may or may not have made it easier to see down the red satin push up bra beneath the white dress fashioned after a lab coat. "Are you going to stare at me all night or help me catch the murderer?"

Harry licked his lips. She fought a smile off her ruby red lips. He'd done an admirable job not glancing down her dress or at her legs. She nearly wanted to pat him on the back.

He struggled for a moment, but eventually shook himself out of the trance. Harry cleared his throat and rolled his shoulders, gesturing towards the club. "Ladies first."

She scowled, but stalked towards the club's entrance. She felt Harry's eyes practically glued to her small form as she crossed the street and didn't hide the grin, since he couldn't see it, after all. What was Halloween night without at least a little bit of mischief?

-

After a solid half hour of painfully loud music and Murphy turning down nearly every single guy in the entire club, they located their perp. He was a skinny early twenty-something who had his arm around a blonde girl dressed as Harley Quinn and was hovering dangerously near the back entrance. His victims had been found in alleys, so this was all but the kiss of death.

They'd split up a little while ago, so Murphy slipped past the line of girls waiting to get into the bathroom and followed the pair through the long, narrow hallway that led back out to the street. The creep was still whispering sweet nothings in the girl's ear, and the girl was far too liquored up to know she was in danger. Murphy withdrew her pistol and crept along after them, concentrating on not making her ridiculous heels click with every step.

Just as she closed in, a long, strong arm wrapped around her waist and yanked her into the broom closet.

Murphy whirled, aiming high, but then the bare bulb in the tiny closet revealed Harry with one finger to his lips. She hissed out an annoyed breath and immediately lowered the barrel of the gun.

"You have a death wish, Dresden," she growled, catching the swinging bulb so it wouldn't hit him in the head.

"Sorry," he whispered. "I couldn't say anything or he'd hear. He made you."

Murphy stiffened. "What?"

"It's dark enough down here that he could lay a trap," Harry explained. "If you'd taken another step, you'd have triggered it. Nasty little electrocution spell. I've cobbled together something to neutralize it."

She gave a tight nod. "We've got to get back out there. It won't take him long to go for it--"

The door knob jiggled behind her. She heard a rough, authoritative voice--no doubt one of the bouncers. A second before the door opened, Harry cursed under his breath and muttered "Sorry about this, Murph." Then grabbed her around the hips and pressed her up against the shelf.

He kissed her.

Murphy almost melted.

She knew Harry was strong, even for a wiry, lanky kind of guy, but the power and precision it had taken him to sweep her up like that and suspend her in the air made her gasp into his mouth just as it came down on hers. Historically speaking, she hated being manhandled. It felt degrading, and she begrudgingly admitted it was also a result of being short. She didn't like feeling small or weak in comparison, and to his credit, Harry had gone out of his way to avoid making her feel that way around him. Short jokes aside, he always matched his long stride with her shorter one and didn't feel the need to stoop in her presence.

But there was just something wild and bizarrely hot about him pinning her to the shelf of cleaning supplies and kissing her ravenously, like a man dying of thirst. If it was an act, it was a damned good one. She'd unconsciously woven her arms around his neck, pulling him down harder to her lips, her legs automatically curling around his narrow hips. She confirmed it wasn't an act. She could feel the evidence stacking up underneath his jeans, so to speak.

Harry broke from the kiss first, adopting a near-perfect drunken slur as he noticed the bouncer who had ripped the door open. "Hey, man! You mind?"

The bouncer rolled his eyes. "Look, man, get a room."

"We _are_ in a room," Harry said defiantly.

"Get one that you bought and paid for. Move it along, lovebirds."

Harry harrumphed and gently lowered Murphy to the floor, walking out of the closet. She was glad he went out first. She stumbled due to weak knees. The bouncer coughed into his hand, hiding a laugh, and she glared at him before stalking off. They cut through the kitchen to make it outside and managed to catch the creep just as he'd cornered Harley Quinn against a dumpster. Harry took him down and Murphy cuffed him, calling the patrol car in.

She had just finished up talking to the club owner about the incident when she felt the warm, comfortable weight of a leather coat around her shoulders, as well as the pleasant scent of Harry's aftershave. She blinked up at him in question, but he wouldn't meet her gaze.

"I, uh, figured the guys would have a field day if they saw you in that outfit during an arrest," he explained.

"Oh. Thanks." She buttoned it closed and snorted as she noticed that it swept along the ground as they walked towards the mouth of the alley to wait for backup.

"Sorry about the...y'know...closet thing," Harry said, his cheeks reddening. "It was all I could think of to keep us from getting busted."

She pursed her lips. "Why does that not surprise me?"

"Hey, you don't get to play coy," he said, scowling. "I didn't think you were listening that day I had a concussion and mentioned the nurse fantasy."

She grinned. "I'm a detective, Harry. Attention to detail is my bread and butter."

"Ha-ha," he grumbled, shoving his hands in his pockets. "Just you wait. I'll have my revenge soon enough."

"What?" she asked archly, her hands on her hips. "Are you going to show up next Halloween as my ultimate fantasy?"

Harry grinned wolfishly. "And just what is that, exactly?"

She stepped in close, lowering her lids over her eyes. "Keep dreaming, Dresden. That's one mystery you're never going to solve."

His grin widened and his dark eyes glimmered. "Challenge accepted."

They broke off the staring contest as the patrol car finally pulled up and one of her S.I. guys appeared. He didn't say anything about her wearing Harry's coat, but he was smiling so hard she could see dimples in his cheeks as he asked her about the perp. She briefed him on the arrest, and the smile didn't budge. Finally, she couldn't help herself.

"Something funny, Roberts?"

He cleared his throat. "No, Lieutenant. I was just wondering if you and Dresden shop at the same makeup store."

Harry gave him a bewildered look. "Huh?"

The S.I. cop pointed at Harry's mouth. "You're wearing the same shade, kids."

Harry and Murphy both turned pink as the cop sidled past them, choking down laughter. Harry ducked towards the side view mirror and scrubbed Murphy's ruby red lipstick off his mouth.

Murphy just sighed quietly to herself. "Well, mischief managed."

FIN

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please feel free to speculate about Murphy's sexual fantasies. I am genuinely dying to hear what you guys think she'd ask someone (*cough* Harry *cough*) to roleplay as in the bedroom.
> 
> Also, picturing the look on Harry's face when Murphy got out of that car in a slutty nurse outfit made my entire night.


	34. Mischief Managed Part II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The sequel to "Mischief Managed." Turnabout is fair play and payback is a bitch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I HAVE THE BIGGEST, DUMBEST GRIN ON MY FACE EVER RIGHT NOW AND I REGRET NOTHING.

It wasn't often that Harry Dresden could render Karrin Murphy completely speechless, but he had to admit this was one of his finer moments accomplishing that goal.

"Well, this looks promising," the wizard mused as he unfolded his enormous frame from inside the Blue Beetle and shut the door. He stared at the house down the street that had costumed people twirling, laughing, and in one Dracula's case, doing keg stands. It was a far cry from the sleek, electronic club they'd found themselves at only a year prior. This reeked of college kids, but then again, the supposedly psychic thief they'd been looking for preyed on drunken co-eds.

Murphy stood on the sidewalk by a fire hydrant dressed in her old rookie police uniform for the sake of frugality. After all, the coeds didn't know she was actually a cop, and it gave her an excuse to bring her handcuffs and gun inside during the search.

"Parties like this always do," she replied smoothly as she finished checking the perimeter. She turned to face him and then abruptly went silent.

"Word on the street is this troublemaker of ours should have a table in the basement where she does 'readings'," Harry made fake air-quotes. "They are apparently fairly accurate, and according to a few accounts, often result in hypnotism, at which point the perp then steals their banking info and runs off with a hefty sum while the victim is under the spell. I can tell the difference between simple suggestion and actual hypnotism induced by a spell, so we'll know pretty quickly if she's a fake or the genuine article."

She didn't reply, so he glanced down at her. Murphy's cheeks were a little pink. "Murph?"

She jumped slightly and shifted her gaze up into his face. He raised his eyebrows in question. "Something wrong?"

"No," she sniffed, turning on her heel. "Let's go."

Harry grinned widely. "After you, your worship."

Murphy sent a hateful glare over her shoulder. "You wore that Han Solo costume specifically so you could call me that, didn't you?"

Harry winked at her. "Would I do that?"

She rolled her eyes and they crossed the street to the house. As predicted, no one seemed to react to Murphy, but Harry received more than a few flirty smiles. They split up and scouted the house out floor by floor before confirming that the basement had been set up for various entertainment: the main den for video gaming, one room for adult-inspired activities, another for poker, and the last for their thief in question. They headed down and waited until the room cleared before stepping inside and shutting the door behind them.

The thief was young, no more than maybe twenty-two, with dyed black hair cut in a bob. She had heavy makeup, including purple eye shadow and false eyelashes, and had a corset over her poofy skirt. She sat in front of a small fold up table with a black cloth on it and a little card with the name Madam Veritas written in fancy script on it. She eyed them as they sat down and popped a bubble she'd just blown with her teeth.

"You two are little old for college party," were the first words out of her mouth.

"Wow," Harry said. "I want to speak to the manager. This is terrible customer service."

The girl rolled her eyes, but a smirk crossed her lips. "You're sassy for an older guy. What are you two geezers interested in tonight?"

Murphy's eyebrow twitched. Beneath the table, Harry slipped one hand over her knee and squeezed gently. She wasn't sensitive about her age, but Murphy wore her emotions on her face quite clearly most of the time and she could blow their cover if she reacted to the barb. He felt her relax in the chair slightly at his touch and she forced a smile onto her lips.

"We've heard you're pretty impressive," Murphy said. "Wanted to see if it's true."

"No free looks, blondie. You have to pay for entertainment."

Murphy peeled off a twenty from her wallet and held it between two fingers. "How much will this get us?"

The young woman snatched the bill and held it up to the light, nodding to herself. "I can do a mind-reading for this much."

"And just what is that, exactly?" Harry asked.

She cracked her gum again, tossing a bored look at him. "Nothing special. Think of something very specific. Something I'd have no way of knowing."

Harry and Murphy exchanged a glance. She nodded towards the girl. Harry shrugged and crossed his arms. "Alright, whippersnapper. Hit me. What am I thinking right now?"

The girl lowered her chin slightly and stared at him. Harry carefully didn't meet her gaze exactly, rather glancing just below her fake eyelashes. He felt a slight quiver in the air and his scalp prickled for a second before the girl smirked and her brown eyes twinkled.

"Last year," she drawled, pointing a finger at Murphy. "She wore a slutty nurse costume and you wanted to fuck her inside a broom closet all night long, if she'd let you."

Harry blushed clear up to his hairline. "That's...out of context."

The girl's smirk widened as she switched her gaze to Murphy. "Don't feel too bad, big boy. Apparently, as soon as you got out of your car, she thought about slamming you against the hood of it and fucking your brains out. She's had a crush on Han Solo since she was in her teens and you really nailed the costume."

"Cute," Murphy said through her teeth, ignoring the heat climbing up her neck to consume her cheeks. "Tell me, is there anything in my head about arresting you for stealing seven different people's bank account numbers and dumping their funds into your own?"

The girl's smirk vanished. She licked her lips, eyeing them both. Harry sat forward in his seat, his tone slightly mocking. "See, there's a funny thing about plucking thoughts out of the air, little miss. There's no context. So while you were rooting around in there, you didn't see that this time last year we were arresting a serial killer. It's in your best interest to put your hands on the table slowly and calmly and then follow us outside. If you really are psychic, you know exactly what Lieutenant Murphy is capable of with suspects resisting arrest."

Murphy offered the thief a sharp-toothed smile. The girl swallowed hard, glancing between them, and then at the door.

"Ah-ah," Harry said evenly, his eyes narrowing. "I wouldn't do that if I were you. Han shot first, you know."

She abruptly went still. Harry's hackles rose. She was way too young to pull off the kind of calm that went with a dangerous situation like this. He was reaching for the blasting rod hidden underneath his vest when she threw out a hand and shouted something in Latin he didn't catch. The air quivered again and the tension that had been in both Harry and Murphy's bodies completely relaxed. He reached over and gripped Murphy's hand, bringing it between them, a roguish smirk sliding over his lips. As soon as he did, the thief bolted out the door.

Harry's long, strong fingers stroked over Murphy's small, slender ones and she shifted nervously in her seat, her blue eyes slightly clouded over the same as his. "Stop that."

"Stop what?" he asked, feigning innocence.

"Stop that. My hands are dirty."

"My hands are dirty too; what are you afraid of?"

"Afraid?"

"You're trembling."

"I'm not trembling." He rose from his seat then, her hand still caught in one of his, leaning over her until their faces were mere inches apart.

"You like me because I'm a scoundrel," Harry murmured, his tone wicked and playful, yet sincere. "There aren't enough scoundrels in your life."

Murphy shook her head slightly, transfixed, her heart hammering in her throat as he drifted closer still. "I happen to like nice men."

"I'm nice men," he whispered, his lips brushing hers.

"No, you're not, you're--" He kissed her. Firmly. Holding it for a long breath, his tongue grazing her lower lip.

And then the spell broke.

Harry's eyes snapped open and he jerked backwards, alarmed. Murphy stood up, knocking her chair over in her haste. "What just happened?"

"Where'd she go?" Murphy snarled.

"Did we just do the lines to _The Empire Strikes Back_?" Harry wondered.

"Come on!" Murphy barked, darting out of the door and up the stairs. Harry trailed her and they searched the house to no avail. They got outside and checked the block, coming up empty a second time.

"Shit," Murphy growled, holstering her gun. "Now what?"

Harry paced along the sidewalk, thinking. "Wait, wait, a second. What's that thing these young kids use? You know, instead of a cab?"

Murphy lifted an eyebrow. "Uber?"

He snapped his fingers. "That's the one. Kid like that probably doesn't have a car if she's stealing people's money at coed parties so there's a good chance--"

"--that she booked it down the street until she was clear and called an Uber," Murphy finished the thought, already dialing the number to S.I. She stepped away from Harry and brought the app up on her phone. "She only had a two minute head start. Closest Uber's heading away from here, so we might be able to catch her. Go!"

Harry drew his keys out and they jumped into the Blue Beetle, following the direction of the car on the app. Her cell phone complained and glitched a few times, but held steady as they drove around the corner and headed south. Luckily, with Halloween night traffic, it didn't take long for them to catch up to the car, spotting her distinctive bob haircut in the back seat. Harry pulled around and cut the car off while Murphy leapt out, flashing her badge to the driver. With a gun pointed at her head, the thief didn't try to pull another spell this time. Murphy cuffed her to a nearby fire hydrant until an S.I. patrol car rolled through and took her away, though not before Harry duct-taped the girl's mouth shut so she couldn't hypnotize the officer in the car. He got weird looks, but Murphy backed him up and they left.

"Well, your highness, I guess this is it," Harry said innocently, bouncing on his heels a bit as he watched the patrol car with its flashing lights head off down the street.

Murphy shook her head, knowing full well what he was up to. She debated with herself briefly before responding. "That's right."

Harry's heart almost leapt out of his chest with joy. "Don't get all mushy on me. So long, princess."

She brushed her hair back, trying not to laugh. "God, you are such a dork, Dresden. Why do I put up with you?"

He waggled his eyebrows. "You like me because I'm a scoundrel. There aren't enough scoundrels in your life, Murph."

Her cheeks reddened as her mind drifted back to that kiss. Even under a spell, it had been a damn good one, just as good as the one in the broom closet a year ago. She crossed her arms and worked her jaw a bit, glaring at him. "So who told you about the Han Solo thing? Rawlins?"

"Why, Murph, I'm hurt," Harry said, touching his chest. "What makes you think my exceptional investigator skills didn't unearth the truth?"

" _Harry_."

The wizard cleared his throat and idly scratched the back of his neck. "Your mom called to wish me happy birthday. It may have come up at some point during the conversation."

Murphy sighed. "Betrayed by my own family."

"Maybe it was destiny," he teased, nudging her with his arm. "After all, I've had a mad crush on Leia since puberty."

She sent him a narrow look. "Don't get any ideas, you scruffy-looking nerf-herder."

"What are you worried about, Murph?" he drawled, opening the door to the Blue Beetle. "It's not like Han and Leia got together."

He winked. "There's two more movies before that happens."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Seriously, it was entirely too much fun writing that chapter. I'd like to thank howlingmad007 for coming up the idea for Harry's revenge costume. Stroke of genius. 
> 
> Also, I have a serious headcanon that Murphy talks about Harry to her mother, enough that her mother has added him in as a family member that warrants birthday calls. That sounds adorable, especially since Harry is usually grumpy on his birthday since it's like the magical apocalypse every year.


	35. I Won't Dance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry and Murphy have to scope out a perp at a masquerade ball, but Murphy doesn't know how to do the waltz. Fortunately for them both, Harry does. Songfic, sorta.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because these two do so much dancing in their damned relationship that they might as well actually slow dance for real. Originally, I was going to do a ballroom scene with Harry looking handsome in a tux, but then this just became about him teaching her to dance instead. I'll probably sneak in a Sharp Dressed Man fic sometime later. Please enjoy.

_"When you dance, you're charming and you're gentle_  
_'Specially when you do the Continental_  
_But this feeling isn't purely mental_  
_For heaven rest us, I am not asbestos_  
_And that's why I won't dance_  
_Don't ask me_  
_I won't dance_  
_Don't ask me_  
_I won't dance, merci beaucoup_  
_I know that music leads the way to romance_  
_So if I hold you in my arms, I won't dance..."_  
_-"I Won't Dance" by Frank Sinatra_

"This is stupid."

"This is necessary."

Murphy glared up at the wizard in front of her, whose expression was somewhere between patient and endlessly amused. "Can't I just hover against the wall somewhere and blend in?"

"Not if you're going to help me canvass the perp. Can't be avoided, Murph. Now then..." Harry smiled and extended his hand.

She scowled deeply and then drained the bottle of Mac's beer before placing it on the coffee table. She flicked her blonde hair out of her eyes and took his hand, tensing as he drew her closer.

"First things first," Harry said, lifting her hand to the appropriate height. "Loosen up. You're gonna look like the Tin Man on the dance floor if you keep all that tension in your legs and your back."

Murphy exhaled and forced herself to relax. He caught her other hand and lifted it to his shoulder. "Second of all, and we both know this is difficult for you, you're gonna have to let me lead."

Murphy pursed her lips. "Why do I feel like this entire exercise is based around the fact that you just want to boss me around?"

"Aw, Murph, you really do know me."

She kicked him in the shin. He chuckled. "I promise to take my new leadership position seriously. Leading isn't about control or power. It just means I'm guiding us where we need to go. It's still about cooperation and partnership."

Murphy cleared her throat as he settled his large hand over her waist. "Right. So now what?"

Harry smiled. "With me, Lieutenant."

He started the waltz. "One, two, three. One, two, three. One, two, three. And turn."

Murphy stumbled a bit, getting used to the steps, and glanced down at her socked feet self-consciously a few times. Surprisingly, Harry adjusted to her smaller gait without qualms and went slowly to let her familiarize herself with the movement. His grip was gentle yet steady on her hip and her fingers. Harry wasn't exactly a graceful man, not with his size and general awkwardness, but he fell in step as if it were a total reflex. She knew he used to do it as a side gig when he was a young and fresh-faced Harry barely into his twenties. Apparently, the lessons stuck with him.

"I feel like I need to grow eyes on the back of my head," Murphy admitted. "I hate not being able to see where we're going."

Harry clucked his tongue, his voice sing-song. "Someone's got trust issues..."

She stepped on his foot, glaring. "You're one to talk."

"Point taken. Dancing's about trust. Do you trust me to watch your back?"

Murphy blinked, knowing he was just teasing her, but the words hit home regardless. She let a small smile glide over her lips. "As long as we don't walk into a wall, Dresden."

She sent him a searching look. "Can't believe you still remember how to do this so well after all this time."

Harry shrugged. "It's no different from when you learned how to fight."

"Except fighting's actually useful."

"Oh, come on, Murph. Dancing has plenty of uses."

Murphy pursed her lips. "Name _one_."

He smirked. "Seduction, for one thing."

She rolled her eyes. "Yes, of course. I'm in danger of falling in love with you any second now."

"Deny it all you want," he continued, his dark eyes sparkling. "There is something to this dancing thing that gets the heart racing and has for centuries."

"Forced intimacy and letting the man lead doesn't exactly get my motor going, Dresden."

"Well, that's easy enough to fix." He stepped away from her and padded over to her record player, flipping through her collection while she fought down a smile and shook her head. He slipped a record out and gently placed it on the player before returning to her. He bowed and reached for her hand again just as the opening piano notes and clarinet solo began. She slid into his embrace as a soulful voice filled the air.

 _"Living for you is easy living_  
_It's easy to live_  
_When you're in love_  
_And I'm so in love_  
_There's nothing in life but you_  
_I'll never regret the years I'm giving_  
_They're easy to give_  
_When you're in love_  
_I'm happy to do whatever I do for you..."_

Murphy sent him a challenging look. "How'd you know I like Billie Holiday?"

"Private investigator, remember? Besides, I know the truth."

"Which is?"

He leaned down a little, smirking playfully. "You're secretly a romantic."

Murphy scoffed. "You're delusional."

"Oh, you hide it well enough," he teased. "But underneath your hard outer shell, there's a gooey center."

Harry paused, frowning slightly. "That came out _way_ more sexual than I intended."

Her eyes sparkled briefly. "Just how sexual were you _intending_ it to sound, Dresden?"

He cleared his throat. "Not what I meant."

"Sure, it isn't. I thought you said dancing was about seduction. Seduce me."

She lowered her lashes a bit and her smile turned sharp. "Assuming you can, anyway."

Harry read the challenge in her eyes and smiled right back. "Alright, Murphy. Since you asked for it."

He let her go once more and switched records. This time, when he stepped into her arms again, his body language changed. His large hand settled slightly lower on her hip, over the curve rather than up her side, and instead of the usual foot or so of space between them, he brought her in closer to his chest. He slowed the steps to nearly a crawl, so that they were swaying. Murphy's eyes shut for a second, her breath catching as the silken voice of Julie London poured over her ears.

 _"Now you say you're lonely_  
_You cry the long night through_  
_Well, you can cry me a river_  
_Cry me a river_  
_I cried a river over you_

 _Now you say you're sorry_  
_For being so untrue_  
_Well, you can cry me a river_  
_Cry me a river_  
_I cried a river over you_

 _You drove me, nearly drove me_  
_Out of my head_  
_While you never shed a tear_  
_Remember, I remember_  
_All that you said_  
_Told me love was too plebian_  
_Told me you were through me_

 _And now you say you love me_  
_Well, just to prove you do_  
_Come on and cry me a river_  
_Cry me a river_  
_I cried a river over you..."_

"Effective," Murphy mused. "Slower, more intimate, steady eye contact, so to speak. Maybe I was wrong, Dresden. I might swoon in a moment."

His smile widened to something roguish that might have made her heart go pitty-pat for just a second. "I promise I'll catch you if you do."

He lifted his arm enough to twirl her and then brought her in completely against him as the last notes of the hauntingly beautiful song hung in the suddenly intimate air between them.

_"I cried a river over you..."_

Murphy's lips parted and whispered his name, not really knowing why, or what she was about to say. Harry stilled, something soft in his gaze, his hand rubbing circles over the small of her back as he leaned in towards her face.

Then the phone rang.

Murphy shut her eyes for a second and drew away from him to answer it. She answered curtly a few times and then hung up, sweeping her hair away from her face self-consciously. "They confirmed the invitations to the ball."

"Right," Harry said, shuffling over to the record player to stop it. "What time should I meet you back here?"

Murphy checked her watch. "Seven o'clock. And this is a black tie affair, Dresden. No cowboy boots."

Harry scowled. "Take all the fun out of life, why don't you."

She shook her head. "Thanks for the dance lesson. I feel properly seduced now."

He surprised her by giving her a quick peck on the cheek and a wink on his way out the door. "You're welcome."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> By the way, if you've never taken the time to listen to some of the great crooners of bygone generations like Billie Holiday, Julie London, or Nat King Cole, please do. It's some of the most beautiful, soothing music you can ever hear.


	36. The Wolf

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A warlock traps Harry and Murphy and tries to turn Harry on Murphy. Emphasis on try.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this is what I get for watching Zootopia again.
> 
> First of all, if you haven't seen Disney's Zootopia, get your life right. It's an exceptional film. I mention that because it's where the concept for this ficlet came from. Hence, SPOILER ALERT FOR THE END OF ZOOTOPIA. If you have not seen it, skip right to the fic and you'll be fine. Just these chapter notes are a spoiler, not the fic itself.
> 
> So in one draft of the script at the end of the movie, Nick was given the serum because Bellwether thought he'd kill Judy. In this draft, he actually didn't turn on Judy; instead, he tried to protect her from Bellwether. I love this movie and I love the way it happens in the movie even better because thematically, it's amazing to see Judy have complete trust in Nick and conquer her inherent fear and prejudice against her natural predator. But I still think that concept is awesome and I wanted to sort of play with it here, because Harry and Murphy's dynamic is delightfully reminiscent of Nick and Judy's.
> 
> Therefore, let's enjoy some more HarriKarri trash.

_"I'm on your trail_  
_I can smell your blood_  
_I've had enough of unrequited love_  
_It's the coast I crave_  
_Leads me to my grave_  
_Still in my head was the sick of my spine_  
_Give it up and I will make you mine..."_  
_-"The Wolf" by Miniature Tigers_

The moment Karrin Murphy's small body hit the bottom of the pit, she knew it was the end of the line.

The landing knocked the wind out of her for a second, but she scrambled upward anyway, nursing her left side. The pain was sharp. Probably cracked a rib. Just another thing on the list, at this point.

Harry landed in a crumpled heap beside her, groaning sharply, but he too pushed up on his hands and glanced at her, worry lines creasing his forehead. "You okay?" he croaked.

"Fine," she whispered, and then glared up at the rim of the pit twelve feet above their heads. The female suspect stood there with her hands on her hips, grinning madly that she'd caught them off-guard.

"Should have stayed off the case, Lieutenant Murphy," she gloated.

"What are you going to do?" Murphy snarled. "Kill me?"

"Oh, no, of course not," the woman giggled. Then she flicked out one hand and a shimmering red light flooded over her fingers. "He is."

Instantly, Harry's entire lanky form became engulfed in the blood-red light. He cried out in pain and curled into the fetal position, clutching his abdomen as if a malignant tumor had begun spreading through it.

"Harry!"

The light abruptly faded and Harry collapsed onto his side, screaming and clutching his torso. Murphy scrambled over to him, trying to see if something had started pushing through his skin. "Harry, look at me! What's happening? Harry!"

"Oh, there's no point resisting it, Dresden," the girl drawled, boredly checking her manicured nails. "He can't help it. We both know it's there and it's been there all along."

Murphy's hands clutched Harry's, as if she could somehow will the pain away from him. God, his _face_. Sweat poured off his forehead, plastering his dark hair to it, his teeth gritted, animalistic grunts spilling from his lips on every raspy breath. "Harry, talk to me. Come on!"

"There is a predator inside all men, Lieutenant Murphy," the warlock said. "An animal. And I've worked out a way to bring that to the surface."

Just as she finished speaking, Harry's body twisted and contorted. Murphy's eyes widened and she stumbled back as it began to change.

Harry shuddered and rose up on all fours. His shirt and pants ripped down along the seams as his torso bulged out with broad muscle, forming a barrel chest. His joints inverted at his elbows and knees, and then black fur sprang out from every inch of his skin. His face pushed out into a long snout with a black-tipped nose, his eyes widening into deadly gems of amber, and sharp fangs longer than her forefinger split from his jaws.

Seconds later, Murphy was staring at a wolf the size of a small bear.

"I mean, it's really brilliant when you think about it," the villainness mused as the wolf formerly known as Harry Dresden shook out its shaggy fur. "Men are pretty much biologically predisposed to be savage beasts. I'm just helping them along the way."

Harry's amber eyes locked on Murphy. His jaws parted and ropes of saliva dripped from those deadly fangs. Murphy lay perfectly still, but she couldn't control her panicked breathing. She licked her dry lips and whispered his name. He growled and sunk down on his massive front paws, taking slow, deliberate steps towards her.

"Gosh, think of the headlines!" the warlock laughed. "Hero cop killed by ravenous wolf. Just like her old partner. Is that ironic or what?"

"Harry, look at me," Murphy said hoarsely. "It's _me_. It's Karrin. Don't do this. Please, Harry."

She glanced behind her, beside her, but the pit was nothing but loose soil, no places to hide, no angles to climb out. No weapons. She couldn't hope to defend herself. Final curtain.

"No," she whispered, tears slipping down her cheeks as he crept closer, the growls spilling from his furred throat making the air around her vibrate with the terrifying sound. "Harry, please, no."

Harry roared and leapt on top of her.

Murphy waited for his fangs to sink into her throat to tear it out.

They didn't.

He licked her face.

Murphy froze and opened her eyes. Harry had flattened her underneath his heavy wolf body, but his cold wet nose was buried in her neck, sniffing, and the growls vanished as fast as they had come. He nuzzled the side of her cheek and licked the tears that had dripped down there, making pleased doggy noises. Her mouth dropped open in shock and the wolf got one side of her lips, his tail wagging.

"Huh?" the warlock above them sputtered.

Harry's ears flicked backwards and he whirled around, snarling up at the warlock. He stood over Karrin at full height, his hackles rising off his back, and snarled up at the woman with a hellish bark.

"This...isn't possible," the warlock said, gaping. "He's supposed to be tearing you apart, not...not _protecting_ you."

Infuriated, she reached beneath her jacket for Murphy's Sig, but then the high pitched whine of sirens filled the air. She jerked in surprise and Murphy caught a glimpse of white and blue lights behind her. The warlock cursed, dropped the gun, and bolted away from the edge of the pit. Harry kept growling for a moment, then licked his chops and turned around.

Murphy flinched instinctively as his attention returned to her, but the big wolf just snorted, scratched his ear with one paw, and plopped down across her legs. She'd managed to roll onto the side with the least hurt ribs, shivering from the cold, the shock, and the residual fear. Harry propped his head up on her hip and stared at her patiently. She realized a second later he was... _warming her up_. Her legs and feet stopped shivering first, and then the rest of her followed suit.

Murphy laughed hoarsely and shook her head in disbelief. "Clever wolf."

A while later, Harry's ears perked up again and he stood, his eyes flicking up to the edge of the pit. Murphy squinted as she saw a couple flashlight beams hit the bottom of the pit and wander over to her and the wolf.

"Well, well, well," the S.I. officer said. "Lying down on the job, are we, Lieutenant?"

Murphy sighed and pushed up off the ground. "Took you long enough."

"Whoa, wait, is that a _wolf?!_ "

"Yes, it is. I'll explain later. Get us out of here."

Thirty minutes later, after the warlock was in custody, Murphy and a very naked, cold, and confused Harry Dresden sat in the back of an ambulance wrapped in thick EMT blankets sipping coffee.

"Okay, you're going to have to run this past me one more time," Harry insisted, staring at her from across the small space.

"It's very simple," Murphy said, feigning disinterest. "She caught us off-guard. We fell in the pit. She turned you into a wolf, thinking you'd kill me while she escaped. You instead tried to protect me and she tried to run off when backup got here."

Murphy sipped her coffee. Harry continued staring at her. "...this might be the weirdest thing that's ever happened to me, and that's saying a _lot_."

"It really is," Murphy agreed.

Harry drank his coffee. The movement made his blanket gape and Murphy's gaze accidentally slid towards his bare chest and abs revealed under the gap.

"At least it wore off," Harry said with a sigh. "Hate to think about you having to take me home and give me Kibbles and Bits or something."

"Nonsense," Murphy sniffed. "Purina One is a much better dog food brand."

Harry glared. "Gee, thanks for being so thoughtful, Murph."

Murphy didn't resist a smirk. "Well, you are a good boy, Harry."

The wizard buried his face in one large hand. "How long before you let this go?"

"In dog years? Maybe ten."

"Goddamn it, Murphy."

FIN

* * *

 

_(A/N: Because you guys demanded it, here's the alternate ending mentioned in the closing notes for this ficlet.)_

 

ALTERNATE ENDING

Neither the uniform in the cop car nor the one nearby sipping his coffee batted an eye as Murphy leaned over with her Sig in one hand and aimed a cold stare at the handcuffed, winded warlock in the backseat.

"I'm only going to say this once," Murphy said quietly. "Change him back."

The warlock flinched away from Murphy's icy glare. "There's no reversal spell."

Murphy calmly undid the safety on the Sig Sauer. "I-It's just a temporary spell!" the warlock elaborated a second later, her brown eyes huge. "He'll turn back into himself on his own. I swear by my blood."

Murphy stood up and slammed the car door shut. "For your sake, that had better be true."

She rapped her knuckles on the top of the car and it drove off into the cold night. Murphy sighed, holstered the gun, and walked back over to the sidewalk. She couldn't help smiling in spite of herself at the sight before her.

Harry the wolf lay on his back with one of the beat cops who had cleared the scene rubbing his enormous stomach with both hands, his massive jaws open in a delighted doggy grin. The uniform was chuckling and apparently having the time of his life petting an animal that was nearly twice his size. The wolf's nose twitched and he rolled his head to one side as Murphy approached, his bushy tail thumping on the concrete. The uniform stood and gave her a nod, dusting the black fur off his hands and stepping aside. Harry the wolf whined and wriggled, not turning over.

Murphy lifted an eyebrow at the wolf. "In your dreams, furball. Come on. Let's go home."

Harry rolled over and stood up, shaking out his fur, and loped after Murphy to her car. She let him in and he settled on the front seat, looking way too big for the small space but he managed to fit as much as his normal human form did for the most part. After a moment's thought, she rolled the window down and started the engine. The wolf barked happily as they drove back towards the city, his tongue hanging out his mouth. He howled a couple times during the drive, and the sound was loud and probably echoed through the entire state of Illinois, but it was weirdly endearing.

She stopped to get drive thru--chicken fingers for herself, and ten burgers with no toppings for Harry, as she couldn't bear to make the poor guy eat actual dog food--and they made it home in just under forty-five minutes.

The second she pushed her front door open, Harry set about sniffing everything single thing in sight. It was funnier considering he'd been in her house enough times to know every inch but the bedroom. Then again, he didn't seem to just be a wolf with a human brain or anything. He genuinely acted like a domesticated wolf likely did.

She kicked the door shut, took off her coat and shoes, and whistled sharply after she saw him wander into the kitchen. He padded over and she rubbed his ears, pointing to the paper bag. "Dinner time, big guy. I'm gonna take a shower. Behave yourself while I'm gone."

Harry wagged his tail as she unwrapped all the burgers and placed them on an unfolded towel so he couldn't get slobber and pieces of burger all over her carpet. He had started tearing into them by the time she headed into her bedroom to grab her clothes. She took a relatively quick shower and made sure to listen out for any signs of trouble, but she didn't hear anything. She realized she'd forgotten her bra and opened the door in just a towel to return to the bedroom.

She caught a quick glimpse of Harry's furry head poking around the corner and then disappearing.

Murphy pursed her lips. Maybe there _was_ some normal Harry Dresden still in there.

After she changed into her night attire, the two of them sat on the couch watching the news until late and Murphy checked her watch, her stomach clenching with worry. Four hours since it happened and he hadn't turned back yet. She'd plug that warlock full of holes if he wasn't back to normal by tomorrow.

Murphy sighed and rubbed one of Harry's long, furry ears absently. The wolf rolled his head into her fingers and she scratched between his eyebrows. His back leg jiggled against side of the couch. Murphy didn't hide a laugh.

"Alright, Harry, time for bed." The wolf lifted his shaggy head from her hip as she got up. She headed into her bedroom and started tossing back the covers, the comforter, and the quilt.

Until she felt a cold, wet nose brush her backside beneath the t-shirt.

"Hey!" Murphy shrieked, whirling to see the wolf jerk away guiltily. "Turning furry doesn't give you an excuse to get fresh, Dresden."

She pointed towards the door he'd managed to push open. "Back on the couch, mister."

The wolf settled down on all fours and whined, rolling those big amber eyes up at her in an uncanny expression that she'd seen on Harry's face before, usually when he was begging her to take him to Burger King on the way back from a crime scene. Murphy's lips twisted with the effort not to laugh.

"Oh, don't even start," she said, crossing her arms beneath her chest. "You are not sleeping in my bed, Harry Dresden."

The whining got louder, and infinitely more pathetic. Murphy palmed her forehead, still trying her best not to laugh at the sheer absurdity of her current situation. "Fine, you furry nuisance."

The wolf's head popped up from the floor and he wagged his tail again, excited. He stood and hopped up on her bed, settling across the foot of it, and consequently taking up the entire lower half of the mattress with his enormous form. The bed groaned, but nothing cracked or broke. Murphy shook her head and locked the bedroom door. "This is what I get for being best friends with a wizard."

She climbed into bed and shut off the lamp, curling around her pillow. For some reason, she expected it to feel awkward with the giant lump of fur occupying half her bed, but...oddly enough, it was comforting. Maybe dog owners weren't all that crazy after all.

Sometime during the night as she started drifting off, she felt a brush of warm fur and then Harry's tongue on her cheek again. Before she could wake up and bat him away, he shuffled back to the edge of the bed, settled down, and went to sleep.

She didn't realize until morning that he'd given her a good night kiss.

-

The next morning was...different.

Murphy's alarm went off like always. She slapped it vindictively like always. She stretched her legs like always and frowned as she noticed her feet didn't touch anything at the foot of the bed. There was an enormous mound beneath the covers right next to her, completely hidden beneath the sheets.

Murphy rolled her eyes. "Typical. Alright, furball, wake up."

She snatched the covers off.

And found one very naked, very human Harry Dresden lying next to her.

Murphy fell off the bed.

The sound of her hitting the floor woke the wizard up. Harry snorted and sat up, his dark hair sticking up in several directions, his brown eyes glazed and disoriented. He rubbed his eyes and glanced over the side of the bed, noticing Murphy sitting there with a shocked expression.

"Murph?" he mumbled, squinting at her. "The hell are you doing in..."

He paused, glancing around. "...your room, apparently."

He lifted the sheets and blushed, quickly lowering them. "Why am I naked in your bed?"

Harry frowned, seeming genuinely disappointed. "Did I miss something fun?"

Murphy got up and rolled her eyes. "No, idiot. Do you remember last night at all?"

Harry slid to the other side of the bed and stood up, dragging the sheets with him and tucking them around his narrow waist like a toga. "I, uh, I remember we went after that warlock and she pushed us into a pit of some sort. Everything after that's pretty much a blur. What happened?"

Murphy cleared her throat. "She turned you into a wolf."

Harry stared at her blankly. "...I'm sorry, _what?_ "

"She turned you into a wolf, thinking you'd go berserk and kill me, but you didn't. Backup arrived right after and got her. She said the spell would wear off on its own, so I took you back here. Wasn't sure how Mouse and Mister would react to you, after all."

Harry kept staring. "...go back to the part where I was a _wolf_ , please."

Murphy shook her head. "Having trouble with that one, huh?"

"Wouldn't you?" he insisted. Harry gave her room another cursory glance and then smirked. "Although, apparently wolf!Harry is better company."

She glared. "Yes, he is, actually."

He chuckled. She pretended it didn't draw attention to his bare chest and the broadness of his shoulders. "Any theories on how I get home in my current state of undress?"

She strode over to the closet and withdrew a small, worn book bag. He unzipped it and found an old outfit of his, his eyebrows lifting in surprise. "And you have this...why?"

"Because I've been hanging out with you long enough to know you get into shenanigans that end up shredding your clothes, that's why."

"Point taken. Did the warlock say anything else about my condition? You know, any lingering Shaggy Dog problems? Or worse, alpha male problems?"

Murphy smirked. "Not really worried about the latter part, to be honest."

Harry considered her for a moment and then smiled slowly. She nearly jumped as his eyes flashed amber. He walked towards her and she stood her ground, stubbornly, although she felt her heart in her throat as he approached with those wolf eyes staring straight through her.

He touched her chin and leaned in, pressing a light kiss to her mouth, and then grinned. "Woof."

Harry winked and headed for the bathroom, humming "Hungry Like the Wolf" along the way.

 

FIN

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is no way this big dumb wizard would ever hurt his darling lady cop. Honestly, I was half tempted to write more about Wolf!Harry, but it was mostly along the lines of Murphy taking him home with her, he sleeps at the foot of the bed, they both wake up in the morning and the spell wore off so HAHAHA NAKED HARRY IN MURPHY'S BED WAKING UP NEXT TO HER.
> 
> Harry: ...why am I naked in your bed? Did I miss something fun?  
> Murphy: I liked you better as a wolf.


	37. Mambo Italiano

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry heads to see a witness for a case and get the surprise of a lifetime.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I DON'T EVEN KNOW GUYS. I guess I missed the fluffy side of HarriKarri, so here, please have some fluff. Don't judge me.

_"But take some advice, piesano_  
_Learn how to mambo_  
_If you’re gonna be a square_  
_You ain’t gonna go nowhere..."_

_-"Mambo Italiano" by Dean Martin_

“If you’ll follow me this way, Mr. Dresden.”

I stepped past the counter and followed the short, dark-haired desk clerk towards the studio. I wasn’t a particularly rhythmic kind of person, but the smooth tones of Dean Martin washed over me and I almost wanted to sway a bit as we approached the open room. She led me to an open doorway and the dance studio looked about the way most of them did—hardwood floors, mirrors surrounding all sides, and a set of chairs against the wall for nights like this one where they had classes. “Mambo Italiano” was going full blast and I couldn’t help tapping my foot along to it as I watched the various dance partners sashay and sway to the beat.

“Mrs. Claro is over there,” the desk clerk said, pointing to the plump woman in a red dress with thick hair braided down her back. She stood smiling and encouraging one of the couples: a young, brown haired guy and a short, pretty blonde woman who looked an awful lot like--

My lower jaw clunked onto the floor.

Karrin. Freaking. Murphy.

She was dancing.

Not only that, she was dancing _well_.

First off, she wasn’t wearing her usual get up, which consisted of a pants suit, a button-up blouse and slacks, or jeans and a t-shirt with either her leather jacket or Cubs jacket over them. She wore a subdued, but honestly rather flattering off-shoulder black dress and low sensible heels. Her golden hair bounced around those bare, perfect shoulders as she dipped and twirled and executed perfect little hairpin turns that would have made the Tazmanian Devil dizzy. She moved with a kind of confidence I’d only seen in the context of fighting monsters, in the perfectly secure way she held a gun on a target, in the way she swung her powerful legs in a roundhouse kick or performed a hip-toss that could flatten a guy three times her size.

And…and she was smiling.

No, that didn’t do it justice. She was… _glowing_.

“Mambo Italiano” drew to a close and the class clapped for each other. Murphy’s flushed cheeks were adorable. I wanted to stare at her forever when she smiled that way.

Then I realized I’d been standing there for nearly a minute not moving and the girl next to me had been tugging my duster and asking if I’d had a stroke or something.

I had intended to duck out and explain that I should come back another time when Murphy spotted me.

The smile dropped off her lips like it weighed a ton and she paled so quickly it got rid of the rosy flush. I cursed myself a few hundred times and tried to escape, but before I could get far, she caught up with me. She was fast for such a small thing. The desk clerk had enough sense to give us some privacy after she caught the way I’d tried to bolt.

“Harry, what the hell are you doing here?” Murphy hissed, her blue eyes narrow. “I swear, if you’ve been poking into my personal life, I’ll kill you myself.”

“It’s a complete coincidence, I swear,” I implored her. “Mrs. Claro was a witness for a case I’m working and I wanted to try and catch her early before evening classes started. C’mon, Murph, you know me. I’m not an asshole. I’d never poke my nose into your personal life.”

She gave me a level look and crossed her arms, pinning me with that stare that made me want to book it back to the Blue Beetle. Finally, she worked her jaw and sighed. “Alright, so out with it.”

I blinked. “Out with what?”

“You’ve got to have some zingers you’re dying to use.”

I frowned. “You think I’m going to make fun of you.”

“Well, there’s the dress, the heels, the dancing, take your pick.”

“First of all, it’s none of my business,” I said, ticking off one finger. “Second of all, the dress and the heels look great on you. Third of all, dancing is amazing and fun and good stress relief. Fourth of all, it’s _none of my damn business_. Do you know what I do with my free time, Murph? Read books, for crying out loud. I’ve got no room to talk.”

She eyed me, some of that defensive venom slipping out of her expression. “Really? Not even one quip about seeing my actual bare legs for once?”

I couldn’t resist a grin that time. “Still doesn’t beat you fighting vampires in pink panties, so no.”

She punched me in the arm, hard. I rubbed the spot and kept grinning at her as I noticed the color returning to her cheeks. It really was a cute look for her. I wanted to make her blush more. “Truth be told, it’s actually a lot of fun and no one here asks me about my day job so I don’t have to sweat it about word getting around. And you’re right. It’s good stress relief and it keeps you limber.”

I waggled my eyebrows. “Now that I could stand to hear more about.”

She hit me again. “Don’t you have a case to go work?”

“That I do. But I am sorry for butting in on your Me-Time, Murph. Seriously.”

Murphy blew out a breath, making her blonde hair stir slightly over her brow. “Yeah, it ruined the surprise. I was waiting for the opportune moment to blow your mind, but you standing there with your mouth hanging halfway to China almost made up for it. It looked exactly how I pictured it.”

“Glad I could amuse you,” I said, rolling my eyes. I paused again and softened my voice, my mouth a little dry. “You really did look great out there, Murph. Untouchable.”

I caught the smile she tried to hide before she whirled on her heels. “Shut up, Harry. Come on. I’ll introduce you.”

I got my info. Murphy let me stay long enough to watch her dance again and it was one half hour I wouldn’t have traded for anything in the world.

Well, until Mrs. Claro decided to drag me from my comfortable spot in the corner.

“I am very hands-on,” she insisted as I tried to dig my heels in, but this stupid floor didn’t give me any grip. “Everyone participates.”

“I’m not even in this class,” I protested. “I didn’t pay for a lesson. Isn’t this unfair to your actual class?”

Mrs. Claro lifted an eyebrow and glanced at the room. “Do you all mind if I give Mr. Dresden a free lesson?”

“No,” all the grinning dancers said in unison, except Murphy, who had one hand over her mouth to hide the smile.

“Besides,” Mrs. Claro continued, her smile melting into something I’d call coy. “You’ve been eying Señorita Murphy all afternoon. At least give the lady something for the free looks.”

I blushed clear up to the roots of my hair. “I-It’s not like that, we’re just friends—”

Mrs. Claro caught Murphy’s wrist and tugged her over to me. “Then you won’t mind her teaching you what she knows, one friend to another.”

She clasped our hands together and motioned for everyone to give us some room. They spread out into a circle and I wished for the earth to split open and swallow me whole. I could feel cold sweat coating my spine, contrasting wildly with how hot my face felt.

Murphy smiled up at me and shook her head. “Relax, Harry. This is supposed to be fun, remember?”

“Room full of strangers staring intently at the one guy in the room who doesn’t know how to mambo,” I said through my teeth. “Remind me which part of that is the fun part?”

“Forget the room. Focus on me.”

Seeing as I was liable to pass out from embarrassment, I heeded her advice and shook off the soft murmurs of the dance class and the rest of the room. Once my posture stopped resembling that of a feral cat, Murphy held my arms out at the appropriate distance. Mrs. Claro motioned to one of the dancers and they popped on a song for us to help keep the beat.

“Start with your left leg,” Murphy said, calm and genuine, though I could see the sparkle in her eye that meant she was trying not to smile at my expense. “Forward. One step with your right leg. Feet together. Back. One step with your left leg. Feet together.”

She glanced up at me, tossing her hair a bit out of her eyes. It was both beguiling and distracting. She’d probably done it on purpose. Murphy’s evil sometimes. “And it’s that simple. On my count.”

I stared at my clodhoppers, concentrating desperately on not tripping and eating it right at her perfect, tiny feet. “One. Two. Three. One. Two. Three.”

She repeated it until I could do it without stumbling and then increased the pace slightly. “One, two, three. One, two, three. One, two, three…”

Murphy’s hips twisted slightly the next go through. It was also distracting. My body started mirroring her on its own, and we started to rotate every few set of steps. The embarrassment didn’t really go anywhere, but it at least felt as if someone had dialed down the volume. The music took over not long after that, sort of nudging the past knowledge I had in my brain from my days of teaching ballroom dancing to the elderly one lifetime ago.

After a bit, Murphy caught my chin to lift my head, her smile bright and infectious and captivating. “Up here, big guy.”

It really shouldn’t have ruffled my feathers to hear her call me that, but let’s be honest—I’m an idiot, and she’s lovely. It was going to happen whether I wanted it to or not. I’m not made of stone, man.

For that reason, maybe dancing with Karrin wasn’t the worst thing in the world. Maybe I even started smiling, even though my steps weren’t as perfectly in rhythm as hers. Maybe the whole world sort of disappeared around us while we twirled, grinning like dorks. And maybe I was just a tiny bit disappointed when the song ended and the class applauded us, bringing me back to reality.

Murphy dropped our arms, but she didn’t let go of my hands right away. That was…significant.

“See, Mr. Dresden,” Mrs. Claro said. “If given the proper motivation, you too can be a good partner.”

“Don’t I wish,” I said, sneaking a look over at Murphy. That rosy flush returned to her cheeks and I savored it before I made myself let go of her hands. I bowed formally at the waist.

“Thanks for the lesson, Señorita Murphy. I’ll take my leave now, if you don’t mind.”

“Maybe I’ll see you around sometime,” she said cryptically, her smile hidden and inviting. I matched her smile.

“Maybe.”

FIN

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think the other reason I wrote this is I've always liked that while Murphy has to act subdued at work, she's never unfeminine from Harry's POV. He jokes in early books that she's one of the guys, but she never acts as if she dislike feminine things aside from just wearing dresses. She's a hardass because she needs to be, not because she thinks women are weak and I think over time she'd do something along the lines of what you just read because she's confident enough to enjoy it for herself.
> 
> Also, supportive!best friend Harry makes me smile. He only teases her about silly things. He'd never say something to pick on her self esteem or denounce something she enjoys.


	38. Superconductor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Three times when Harry unknowingly turned Karrin Murphy on (and one time he did notice.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *cackles madly and pirouettes into the trashpile*

_"All you seek_  
_And everything that you crave_  
_Is coming through to me_  
_It's like a radio wave_  
_I got the frequency to turn you on_  
_I got the frequency to turn you on_  
_Oh, superconductor, keep it goin'_  
_I got the frequency to turn you on..."_  
_-"Superconductor" by Beautiful Small Machines_

 

"Murphy, do I _have_ to wear this thing?"

"Yes, Harry."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, Harry."

"Absolutely sure, Murphy?"

"If I tell you to put it on one more time, I'm going to shoot you."

"Good. That means I wouldn't have to wear it on account of being dead."

"Dead people wear suits when they're buried, Harry."

"...smartass."

Karrin Murphy sighed and crossed her arms, glancing at the massive dog sitting near her feet, wagging his fluffy tail. "Your owner is an idiot. Just so you know."

Mouse tilted his head to one side as if to say, "D'uh" and Murphy chuckled, rewarding his honesty with a scratch behind the ears. She dusted his fur off her hands and had to avoid getting any on her lovely (stupid) dress. They'd been tasked with scoping out a suspect at some swanky soiree in a hotel lobby, so Murphy's Cubs jacket and jeans and Harry's Led Zeppelin t-shirt and cowboy boots wouldn't make the cut this time around.

Murphy tapped her high-heeled foot. "You have five seconds and I'm coming in there."

"Keep your shirt on," Harry grumbled through his bedroom door. A moment later it opened. Murphy aimed a glare at him, but it didn't stick.

He looked...amazing.

First off, he'd actually shaved for once. Harry was notorious for having perma-stubble, as she heard it called once--a perpetual five o'clock shadow. It looked pretty good on him, but it also matched up with his haphazard dark hair and general scruffy look. She'd learned better than to call him that to his face more than once, though: as a die-hard Star Wars nerd Harry had pretended to wipe away a tear after he called her "your worship."

Second off, the tuxedo she'd rented for him fit in all the right places. He'd whined profusely when she took his measurements, but the tailor had done a great job with the odd proportions she'd given him. It was cut just right in the shoulders to emphasize their breadth, and it tapered in towards his narrow hips. He'd slicked his hair back with some oil, nothing fancy, but without his hair flopping all over his forehead, Murphy could see his features better, and his dark, intelligent eyes in particular stood out to her.

It startled her that it wasn't a bad view at all.

The scowl, however, ruined the effect. Harry threw up his hands. "I'm wearing the monkey suit. You happy now?"

Murphy rolled her eyes and walked towards him. "Stick out your arms, idiot."

"Why? You gonna tear them off?"

"I'm considering it, yes." She tugged his shirt sleeves down and popped in the cuff links that had been in her purse. They were silver and black with little crosses at the center.

After that, she stepped in close. "Down here, Lurch."

Harry stooped to her height, arranging his face into a stoic look. "You rang?"

She bit the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing and adjusted the bowtie. Harry had no idea how to tie a real one, so she'd gotten one that just snapped in the back. To her shock, she smelled a mild cologne. Must have been Thomas' doing. Harry knew nothing about cologne, as far as she could tell, but it was enticing and she was having trouble convincing herself not to bury her nose in his neck and feel the warmth of his skin.

"Murph?" Harry said, arching an eyebrow. "You okay?"

She jumped slightly, not realizing her mind had wandered off while she fixed the bowtie. "Yeah, let's go."

-

"Lift your left arm," Butters said, frowning down at the cut across Harry's ribs. The wizard hissed, but obeyed. Butters smoothed the final bandage over the fresh stitches and popped his gloves off inside out with a sigh.

"There. You're barely held together, but you're together."

"You're a genius, Butters," Harry said with a weary smile. "Thanks."

"Thank me by getting some rest," Butters said severely. "At least eight hours."

"Yup."

Butters rolled his eyes and glanced at Murphy, who was leaning against the wall. "Murphy?"

"He'll get eight hours in," she said mildly. "Voluntary or otherwise."

"Geez, Karrin, where's the love?" he asked, slowly pushing himself off the table. "I'm good for it."

She pushed off from the wall and looped his right arm around her shoulder. "A likely story, you giant doofus. Come on. Bedtime."

Harry waggled his eyebrows. "Hey, my two favorite words."

She pinched his backside. "Ow! Low blow, Murph."

They made a careful path down the hallway to Murphy's bedroom. She kept an ear out for his breathing and it was steady and even in spite of his injuries. He had a slight limp, but they made it there in a reasonable amount of time and she pushed him to sit first. She gave him a couple pain pills and he took them without qualms, but he protested when she tried to take his shoes and socks off.

"I can do it myself. I'm not an invalid."

Murphy crossed her arms and just lifted an eyebrow. Harry scowled and bent over. About three inches. Then his shoulders slumped and he returned to full height.

"Alright, fine, so maybe I'm having some vertical issues."

She shook her head and knelt. "Why do I put up with you?"

Harry snorted. "Clearly you're a masochist."

She flicked her hair out of her eyes enough to glare at him. "Oh, you'd like that, wouldn't you?"

"...I mean, do you want the truth or--ow!"

He rubbed his knee. "You're so abusive today."

"You're so mouthy today," she said, tossing his shoes and socks aside. "And fussy. And useless and goofy and annoying and--"

He slipped his arms around the small of her back, lacing his fingers together, offering her a soft, affectionate smile. "And grateful that I had a little help on the way out of a fire fight."

Murphy's mouth got dry all of the sudden. The only light came from the hallway, and it left half of Harry's face in shadow. His eyes glittered with good humor, his lips tilted to one side in a lopsided grin. He'd tugged her just a little closer so that she stood between his crazy-long stork legs, and her hands found his shoulders out of habit alone because of their height difference. Even bandaged, his chest was warm and firm and entirely too pleasant to look upon in the dim lighting.

She shook herself a bit and glared at him. "A little help?"

"Microscopic, even."

"I hate you."

Harry grinned wider. "No, you don't."

Murphy bumped her forehead against his. "Doofus."

She stayed in his arms for just a while, pretending her heart wasn't racing the whole time.

-

"This is all your fault."

"Is not," Harry hissed in her ear, and it spoke to how cramped of a space they were in that his mouth was even anywhere near her ear with two feet of height as a disparity between them. "How was I supposed to know this stupid cupboard was this small?"

"It was your bright idea to yank me in here," she whispered back furiously, trying to angle her head enough to glare at him, but she couldn't turn enough. "I could have gone to the other side of the hallway, Harry."

"Hey, no criticisms during the plan. Only afterward. I take surveys. Ow! Watch the elbow, Murph."

She heaved an annoyed sigh. "Shut up so I can listen."

Murphy bent forward and pressed her ear to the door, shutting her eyes in concentration. She heard Harry clear his throat once and tried to block out the things around them, but it wasn't exactly easy. She could tell he was trying to hold still as best as he could, halfway hunched over so the lightbulb wouldn't smack him in the forehead. She had her Sig out in one hand and the other up against the door.

She heard muffled words. Two suspects, both male. Words were indistinct.

"Harry," she murmured. "Think you can do that Listening trick? I can't hear."

"Yeah, shift a bit if you can."

Murphy wriggled. Harry made a funny noise and she couldn't see his face in the dark, so she couldn't really figure out what that was about. "I'm pinned by this stupid box. Just lean over me."

"Right. Sorry in advance."

Harry pressed one large hand to the door a few inches from her face and and shut his eyes, slowing his breathing and concentrating on summoning his will. Murphy was all but trapped between the door and his body in the confined space. She took a few deep breaths to calm her nerves so her hammering heartbeat wouldn't distract him and waited. Or tried to.

After about a minute or so, the warmth from his chest along her spine and against her backside became...distracting. She could feel the even breaths rushing in and out of his lungs. She could smell the leather from his duster, that old, comfortable, familiar musk.

"They're talking about an item they sold," Harry murmured, tilting his face down towards her ear. His warm breath tickled her neck and brushed her hair along her nape. Murphy licked her lips and tried to focus.

"What else?"

"Sale of the item's going down in...forty-eight hours. Docks. Thirteenth pier." Harry paused again and then shifted slightly. Murphy felt definite pressure along the curve of her ass and bit her lower lip, mentally screaming at her libido to ignore the very pleasant distraction.

"Harry," she said. "Move."

"Huh?"

Murphy cleared her throat and pushed her hips back. He inhaled quickly and got the picture. "Oh. Sorry."

He squirmed to one side. "Better?"

His knee brushed up between her jean-clad thighs. The friction did... _things_ to her. "Not much. Just tell me when they leave so we can get the hell out of here."

"Yeah, this is a little close for comfort." Harry's knee shifted again, higher this time. Karrin bit down over her knuckle to keep from moaning.

"Murph?"

"What?"

"You okay down there?"

"Yeah, why?"

"You sound like you're practicing Lamaze."

She jabbed an elbow into the nearest part of him and savored the wheezing groan that resulted. At least she wasn't the only one being tortured.

-

"Over here!" Harry called, poking his head from around a nearby tree. Twigs and branches popped beneath Murphy and Thomas' boots as they strode over to Harry's position in the woods.

"Uh," Thomas said once they were face-to-face. "Two things. One, where are your clothes? Two... _where are your clothes?_ "

The wizard sighed. "Long story. They're about forty yards out to the right. Three of them. Split up and meet me up at the lighthouse after. Got it?"

Harry glanced at Murphy for confirmation. It was dark out, but there was full moon overhead casting silver rays through the woods, so he caught the definite twinkle in her eyes as she let her gaze wander down his body slowly, back up to his face, and then smiled sweetly.

"Got it."

Harry's jaw punched through the earth's crust as she headed in the direction he'd indicated without another word. Behind him, he heard a choking sound.

He whipped his head around to see Thomas folded over with suppressed laughter. Harry blushed and pointed a finger after her in total disbelief.

"Did she just--did you see--"

Thomas clapped a hand on his brother's shoulder. "I'll explain later. Come on, clueless wonder."


	39. Midnight Sun

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dresden Files Thor: Ragnarok AU.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spoilers for Thor: Ragnarok, obviously, but if you haven't seen it yet, that's your fault. It's AMAZING.
> 
> And this is just a short and sweet tidbit that was rolling around in my head for a couple weeks. I am obsessed with Ragnarok, to be honest. I've seen it at least eight or nine times by now and I love it more with every viewing. I just thought this would be an amusing little snippet for some Harry/Murphy since their relationship parallels Thor/Valkyrie. I mean, come on. The scene where Thor finally makes Valkyrie smile and he has that dopey fucking grin is a DEAD RINGER for Harry Dresden, man.

_"We come from the land of the ice and snow_   
_From the midnight sun where the hot springs flow_   
_How soft your fields so green_   
_Can whisper tales of gore_   
_Of how we calmed the tides of war_   
_We are your overlords..."_   
_-"The Immigrant Song" by Led Zeppelin_

It figured on the worst day of Harry Dresden, God of Thunder's life, that he'd meet the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen.

She'd come bursting out of an odd-looking ship with a crooked, drunken gait, but those vibrant blue eyes were locked on him with serious intent in a way a woman hadn't ever really looked at him before. She'd soundly trounced the scavengers without a second thought, and for a brief second, he thought he'd found an ally. No such luck. She stuck the obedience disk to his neck, zapped him, dragged him off, and sold him to the utterly psychotic Tessa Denarius, aka the Grandmaster. It left his pride--and his body, damn, the disk's electrocution was utter agony--stinging and he wanted with every fiber of his being to get some payback.

Well, sort of. Not every fiber of him hated her guts. There was a very annoying, persistent fiber that insisted she was gorgeous and powerful and he'd die to spend even five minutes with her alone in a dark bedroom in this filthy, horrid place.

That fiber was what made him call out to her minutes before his death match in the arena, and then he'd seen the tattoo of the Valkyrie on her forearm and it all made sense. No wonder part of him was drawn to her. She was a Chicagoan and part of the most powerful legion Chicago had ever produced. She was a warrior, a goddess, a force to be reckoned with.

So what the hell was she doing wasting away on this Godforsaken hellhole in Nevernever?

He'd asked and she wouldn't tell him, but he could see behind those fiery eyes that there was a reason. Not negligence of duty. Something worse. Something painful. He'd heard once that the opposite of love wasn't hate, but apathy, and it was written all over her lovely face.

And that was a mystery he was about to solve right the hell _now_.

Harry had to admit her playful smile as she kicked the mighty champion Sanya in the knee to floor him as she asked what he'd called her for was nothing short of adorable. She'd flicked her gaze up at him and that smile vanished, but his didn't. God, she was a thing of beauty. _Oh, wait, no, focus, Harry._

"Are you so thick headed that you can't tell that someone hiding halfway across the world wants to be left alone?" Murphy spat at him, striding towards the door.

"We need to talk," Harry said.

"No, you want to talk to me," Murphy shot back.

Harry turned to Sanya. "I need her to stay."

Sanya ripped the top half of his headboard off and launched it at the door, blocking her path. She sighed in exasperation as Sanya hollered, "Stay!" And then, after a moment, added, "Please?"

Murphy scowled and faced Harry again. "Alright."

She walked over to the bar. "Here's the deal: I'll listen to you until this--" She hefted an enormous gallon-sized bottle of alcohol. "--is empty."

She popped the cap off and upturned the bottle. Harry had gotten about three sentences out before she drained the entire thing and dropped it at his feet, prompting a murmured "Wow" of amazement from him. "Finished. Bye."

Murphy stomped towards the door again. Harry clenched his teeth and decided to go for broke this time.

"Ebenezar is dead."

Murphy stopped in her tracks.

Harry watched her shoulders tighten with tension. She was still standing there. She hadn't left. Harry pressed on. "Mab, the Queen of Air and Darkness, has invaded Chicago."

Murphy slowly faced him this time, and he couldn't hear derision in her voice this time; a soft background of sorrow instead. "If Mab is back, then Chicago is already lost."

"I'm going to stop her," Harry said.

"Alone?" Murphy scoffed.

"Nope. I'm putting together a team. It's me, you, and the big guy--"

"No team! Only Sanya!"

Harry backtracked. "It's me and you."

"I think it's only you." Dammit, he'd lost her again, she was trying to leave. He intercepted her this time, though he was quite sure if she wanted to she could move him out of the way.

"Wait! The Valkyrie are elite warriors sworn to protect the city."

"Look, I already faced her once back when I believed in the city of Chicago, and it cost me everything. That's what's wrong with Chicago--the lies, the secrets, the whole damned sham."

She brushed past him again. He reached for her arm and pulled her around towards him. "I agree--"

In a blink, she knocked his hand off and held a thin, wicked looking dagger at his throat. Murphy clenched her teeth and eyed him. "Don't get familiar."

Harry took a deep breath and pushed the dagger away from his neck. "I agree."

She lifted a second dagger with her other hand. He had no idea where she'd conjured it from, but she hadn't stabbed him yet, and that had to be a good sign, so he pushed that one down too. "But this isn't about the city, it's about the people, and they're dying, and they're your people too."

Something flickered across her lovely face. Something vulnerable and aching and remorseful, but before he could say anything else, she shoved him back. "Forget it. I have."

Harry sighed inwardly, but outwardly he just nodded. "Okay."

"Okay," she snapped back.

"Good."

"Great."

"Thank you."

She frowned up at him. "For what?"

"For this," Harry said, lifting the control to his obedience disk that he'd stolen off her waist. She worked her jaw, glaring at him like she wished he'd burst into flames. "Didn't see that, did ya?"

He powered the horrible device down and plucked it off his neck while she rolled her eyes. "You know, go ahead. Stay here and enslave people for that lunatic. Keep drinking, keep hiding. Me?"

He clapped his hands twice and Sanya tossed him the huge metal ball he'd been bouncing off the wall. Harry caught it and leaned down into Murphy's face with a sharp little smile. "I choose to run towards my problems and not away from them."

Harry launched the ball at the window, expecting it to shatter the glass. "Because that's what heroes--"

The ball rebounded off the window and smacked him right in the side of the head, knocking him down.

Murphy licked her lips and didn't hide a smug smile as he heaved himself back up, shook it off, and finished his line like nothing had happened. This is what he got when he tried to be cool, dammit.

He pointed at her, smirking. "Because that's what heroes do."

And then he leapt out of the window out into the mad city in the middle of Nevernever.

-

Harry pretended his heart didn't nearly leap out of his chest with joy the first time he made Murphy smile (on purpose, anyway) when she found them in the middle of the parade.

She'd finally come around, and it sounded like it was a combination of because of him and whatever the hell his idiot brother Thomas had done to her, but she was on the team now and that was all that mattered. Somehow, it was easier to focus on the mission, on fighting, with her at his side. Watching her sail through the air destroying the ships chasing after they as they escaped was like poetry in motion. That golden hair flying over her strong shoulders, that cavalier grin, the way her compact, powerful body could twist in mid-air and strike and leave everything flattened in her wake was uncanny. The heavens parted and angels sang her name like ringing bells every time he watched her thrash their enemies.

Maybe it was that more than anything else that made him do what he did next.

Harry lifted the folded armor in one hand, offering it to Murphy. "I, uh, found this in the armory."

Murphy's gemstone eyes widened. She accepted it, running her fingertips across the fabric of her old uniform, as if she had remembered an entire lifetime in these few seconds of seeing it. She glanced back up to see him smiling fondly at her.

"Good luck."

Harry started to turn, but she called out to him. "Your majesty!"

He faced her. She grabbed the front of his armor, jerked him down to her height, and laid a kiss on his lips that shamed every kiss he'd ever received prior to this one. Harry's eyes nearly rolled back in his head from the pleasure of it.

Murphy let him go, her voice firm but affectionate all the same. "Don't die. You know what I mean."

She stepped away towards the ship and his heart followed after her.

And maybe if he lived through this hellish mess, he'd earn hers.


	40. Perchance to Dream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What would life be like if Harry Dresden's dreams came true? Post Cold Days, pre Skin Game.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GET YOUR FUCKING KLEENEXS READY. THAT IS ALL I AM GOING TO SAY. GODDAMN, I JUST FUCKED MY OWN FEELINGS UP AND I AM SO SORRY BUT I NEED TO MAKE YOU SUFFER WITH ME BECAUSE MISERY LOVES COMPANY.

_"Sometimes, the last thing you want comes in first_  
_Sometimes, the first thing you want never comes_  
_And I know the waiting is all you can do, sometimes_  
_I'll put a spell on you_  
_You'll fall asleep_  
_I'll put a spell on you_  
_And when I wake you_  
_I'll be the first thing you see_  
_And you'll realize that you love me...."_  
_-"Strange and Beautiful" by Aqualung_

I was sleeping peacefully. That should have been the first sign that something was wrong.

I was warm. Unusually warm, almost. The sheets and comforter lay under one of my arms and I was damn near snorkeling in a downy soft pillow. The air in the room felt crisp, which meant morning. I could hear the faint hum of tires on the street outside. But I was so comfortable. I really didn't feel like getting up. Maybe I could stay for just a few more minutes...

But inevitably, there was work to be done. If I stayed much longer, Mab would send someone to fetch me eventually, and they wouldn't be nice about it.

I sighed in resignation and dragged my eyelids open.

And found myself staring at Karrin Murphy's bedroom.

Uh. Okay. Was I have That Dream again or...?

As if on cue, someone stirred behind me.

The blood drained out of my face. I felt small, slender fingers flexing along my ribs and the intimacy of the touch made me shiver on impulse. A second later, soft lips touched my neck and I nearly passed out from the sheer pleasure of that one little kiss.

"Morning," Murphy mumbled.

"Um," I said eloquently.

"What?" she asked. "You leave the toilet seat up again or something?"

I licked my lips and rolled over, staring at her open-mouthed. She yawned and blinked at me sleepily, and I found myself wanting to stare at her forever. Her golden hair was tucked behind one ear, but the rest of it spilled over her pillow. She wore a plain white tank top and little blue boy-shorts, but not the kind made for women--the kind made for men, just in a size extra small. It says a lot about me that I somehow found that even sexier. She'd kicked the covers down to about calf-level, so I got an eyeful of those beautiful, dangerous, creamy legs of hers.

"Um," I tried again. "Did I miss something?"

Murphy arched an eyebrow. "You miss a lot of things, mister."

"No, uh, I mean..." I gestured between the approximate three inches of space between our bodies. "Did we...?"

"Not last night, no. We got in late." A sly smile slid across her beautiful lips and my IQ plunged into the negative numbers. "We could remedy that right now, if you like."

For about four seconds, I couldn't remember why that was a bad idea. Holy hell, she looked gorgeous and it had been a painfully long time since my last session of the horizontal Macarena, but then I kicked my brain into working and realized I had no recollection of the last twenty-four hours and I started getting very nervous.

"Don't take this the wrong way," I said carefully, pushing up onto one hand. "But do you remember what happened yesterday?"

Murphy frowned and sat up as well. "Yeah. You wrapped up the Lovac case and then we went to dinner with the Carpenters. It ran late, so we all just took showers and headed to bed."

I eyed her. "We all?"

Someone knocked on the door. Murphy spared me another odd, worried look before calling, "Come in, honey."

"Honey?" I sputtered, but then I saw why.

A little girl with honey-toned skin and bouncing brown curls bounded inside the room and catapulted onto the bed like a tiny gymnast.

My daughter.

Maggie.

She flung her arms around my neck and giggled. "Morning, Daddy!"

I froze. Then I wrapped my arms around her and hugged her, my eyes closing in reverence of this moment. God, she was beautiful. The most beautiful thing I'd ever seen.

"Daddy," she said, plopping down between the two of us. "I had a dream about a unicorn! But like, a nice unicorn! We flew over Chicago and then we went to Cupcakeland and I had like five cupcakes and they were super good, but then I woke up and they were gone!"

Murphy chuckled and rubbed the top of Maggie's head. "My money's on Mouse. You know him and his thing for sweets."

Maggie beamed and hugged Murphy next, then snuggled down on the pillow next to her. "Can we have cupcakes for breakfast?"

"Ah," Murphy said, her tone stern. "I'm pretty sure that's not part of a balanced breakfast."

Maggie flashed me those huge brown eyes. "Dad, can we have cupcakes for breakfast?"

"Kiddo," I said, pushing the dark hair behind her ear, my throat tight. "You can have whatever you want."

Murphy sent me a glare over the munchkin's head and I realized what I'd said. I cleared my throat. "When you're eighteen and you have a job and pay for your own dentist bills."

Maggie pouted. "Aw, Dad!"

Murphy kissed the top of Maggie's head. "Why don't we compromise? Go grab the ingredients and I'll make us pancakes for breakfast. Deal?"

"Yay! Deal!" Maggie kissed Murphy's cheek and bolted for the kitchen, calling for Mouse as she went. I heard the click of the enormous Foo dog's nails on the hardwood floors a moment later.

"You are such a sucker," Murphy told me. "You'd give her the world in a handbasket, wouldn't you?"

I didn't say anything, too busy staring stunned at the open door where my daughter had just run through. She had been...happy to see me. Excited. She called me "Dad." Jesus Christ.

Murphy's warm hand touched my cheek and turned my face towards her. She gave a start as she saw the tears in my eyes. "Babe, what's wrong?"

"Nothing," I croaked, brushing my palm over my face to hide them. "I'm fine. She's just...wow, she's a great kid."

Murphy smiled. "Yeah, she's incredible. Wonder where she gets it from."

I choked on a laugh. Murphy kissed me. My heart almost melted in my chest. I had so many questions, but something in my head just murmured for me to accept it. I didn't care how. The woman I loved was here. My daughter was here. My family was here.

I mean, what the hell else mattered?

I shuddered as Murphy's tongue grazed my bottom lip. She sighed. "Guess with pancakes on the way, we can't make up for last night. I apologize for not ravishing you like I usually do."

I grinned. "I'm sure I'll find it in my heart to forgive you somehow."

That sly look returned in full force. "Well, the munchkin is off with her grandparents at noon, and I don't have to head to work until two o'clock. I'm certain we could fit in a quickie."

A growl slipped past my lips as I kissed her again. "Sounds like a plan."

Then I replayed her words in my head. "Wait, grandparents?"

Murphy quirked an eyebrow again. "Yeah, Margaret and Malcolm are taking her to the museum today, remember?"

I stared at her in disbelief. She frowned again. "Honey, are you feeling okay?"

I slid out of the bed and took a deep breath. My parents were alive. Both of them. My breath got incredibly fast and erratic all of the sudden. My mother and father were _alive_.

What the hell was going on?

"Harry," Murphy said, walking around to face me. She touched my bare chest, her eyes wide, and then gripped my face between her hands. "Harry, baby, calm down. You're having a panic attack. Just breathe. It's okay, I'm here."

"Karrin," I croaked. "What the hell is going on?"

"What do you mean? Talk to me, Harry."

I ran a shaky hand through my hair. "I...don't remember any of this. It wasn't like this before. My dad died when I was a kid and my mother died in childbirth. Susan, she...I had to...and then I died and Mab brought me back as the Winter Knight..."

Murphy pushed me to sit on the bed again and stood between my legs, stroking my cheek. "Harry, you had a bad dream. None of that happened. It's not real, honey."

The world got soft and runny. I felt dizzy. Tears burned my eyes. So many memories. Had it all just been one massive nightmare? Was I finally losing my mind?

Murphy cursed softly and wrapped her arms around my neck, bringing me into the soft shelter of her embrace. "Shh, it's okay, Harry. Breathe. You're safe. We're all safe, babe."

I shut my eyes and just focused on her warmth, her scent, the steadiness of her voice. I wrapped my arms around her and didn't try to stop the grief this time. I'd never realized just how much hurt and trauma I'd been dealing with in that other life, in that nightmare. It was over. It was all finally over.

Little by little, I calmed. Murphy ran her hands through my hair, over my scalp, whispering gently that I'd be alright. Once I stopped shaking, she drew back and wiped my eyes, smiling down at me. "You okay now, big guy?"

"Yeah," I muttered. "Sorry."

"Dummy," she whispered, pressing her forehead to mine. "Don't be sorry for how you feel. I'm right here and I'll always be right here, okay?"

I nodded. "Okay."

"Hurry up, you guys!" Maggie cried from the kitchen. "Mouse is hungry!"

Murphy chuckled and shook her head. "God, she's got your appetite, you know."

I chuckled. "I know."

She kissed me again. "Get dressed. We've got pancakes to make."

Murphy tugged one of my Star Wars sweatshirts on over her tank top and headed into the kitchen. I stood and pulled on some track pants and a t-shirt.

We made breakfast. Maggie told me all about her dream, pausing in intervals to feed Mouse sausage links under the table. Then she went upstairs to shower and dress while Murphy and I washed the dishes and packed her a snack bag. I kept glancing nervously at the door as it crept closer and closer to noon. I was going to see her. See them. Together.

Just like I'd always dreamed of.

Dreams...

The doorbell rang. I walked to the front door, my heart in my throat, and opened it after taking a deep breath.

My mother and father stood on the front porch.

Margaret Le Fey was a lovely woman, and age had done nothing to dampen that loveliness. She had a streak of silver from her temple and I saw smaller strands shot through her brown hair that was pulled back in a long braid. Her eyes were bright and twinkled with affection as she saw me. She was still tall and regal even in her plain navy dress and sandals. Her smile was still soft and mysterious.

Malcolm Dresden was tall as well, taller than her, almost as tall as me. I couldn't always remember him clearly as a kid, but I knew we probably could have been mistaken for brothers if we were ever the same age. His eyes were warm and blue, and he had an enormous stuffed My Little Pony under his arm--my brain produced the name Rainbow Dash for some reason--and he was smiling at me in a way that felt as familiar as the sensation of warm coffee on a cold morning. Now, he wasn't quite as thin as the last time I'd seen him. He had the sort of body of an older man with a comfortable life, full of occasional beers and bread and cheeses.

"Hey, son," my dad said. "You gonna stand there gawking all day or you going to let us in?"

I didn't waste another second. I threw my arms around them both and squeezed them to me. They both went a little stiff, alarmed, but they wrapped their arms around my back.

"Wow, Maggie's driving you that crazy, huh?" my father laughed, drawing away first. "Guess you and the missus need some time to yourselves."

I cleared my throat and willed myself to calm down as I stood to one side to let them in. "Guess so."

I shut the door behind them. Maggie heard it and came sprinting down the hall, jumping right into her grandmother's arms. My mother laughed that musical laugh and spun her around once, perching her on one hip. "There's my little flower. How are you today, sweet pea?"

Maggie immediately launched into every single thing she'd done since apparently the last time she'd seen my mother. I offered my dad a cup of coffee and watched the interaction fondly. Maggie's smile went supernova when my dad gave her the stuffed animal and I felt like I was in danger of exploding from how much good it did me to see her that happy.

Maggie and my dad ran off into the den for a brief pillow fight while Murphy got Maggie's backpack ready. My mother turned her eyes on me and smiled, touching my arm. "How are you today, dear?"

"Great," I said, clearing my throat of the lump. "You?"

She kissed my cheek. "Wonderful. I missed you."

I drew her into a hug. "Missed you more, mom."

She hugged me tight and then I felt her turn her head slightly to whisper something.

"You're in danger, Harry."

I froze and pulled back. "What?"

She smiled and gave me a quizzical look. "What?"

I licked my lips. My whole body felt cold. "You...said I'm in danger."

My mother frowned. "Why would I have said that?"

My breathing picked up. Something in the back of my head told me to ignore it. I was imagining things. That awful nightmare was still rattling around in my memories somewhere, after all. I held her hands and squeezed them, shaking my head. "Never mind."

She squeezed mine back and touched my cheek again, pulling away, but before she did, her fingertip passed over the pentacle around my neck. For a split second, I didn't feel safe and happy. For a split second, I felt the sensation of cold water running over my back and shoulders. When I blinked, I saw a flash of Murphy's pale face, her eyes not quite shut, her lashes wet.

And like that, it was gone again.

What the hell was going on?

"Alright, little one," my mother said, offering her hand. "Time to go."

Maggie held her hand and then my father's, grinning at me as they stepped out into the sunshine. "Bye, Dad! Bye, Murphy!"

Murphy shut the door behind them and locked it. She came over to me where I stood in the foyer, staring at the spot they'd walked through, still unnerved. She reached up and combed her fingers through my hair. "Hey, big fella. Come back to me."

I shook myself a little and wrapped her in my arms. "I'm here. I promise."

"Good." She slid her hand down my arm to my hand and led me to the bedroom.

We made slow, lazy, passionate love to each other. The way she touched me suggested we'd done it many times before, but somehow it felt like the first time. I couldn't get enough of her; the scent of her skin, the softness of her lips, the rhythm of her hips as she rode me, the delicate huskiness in her voice as she moaned my name. It was paradise.

I lay on my side with my arms around her, drawing my fingertips up and down the length of her spine, essentially petting her like a cat, which I knew she loved. She had one arm around my neck as she kissed me, one supple leg thrown over my waist as she cooled down from the vigorous lovemaking.

"Mm," she sighed into my mouth. "You're making me reconsider going into work, Dresden."

I grinned wolfishly. "That might be the nicest thing you've ever said to me."

She shook her head at me. "You gonna be alright by yourself?"

"Yeah," I said, the grin fading. "I'm gonna go into the office soon. Keep busy. Should help me get my head clear."

"Okay," she said, sliding her fingers over my nape. I almost sighed. "But call me if you need to. I know those kinds of dreams are hard to wake up from."

She kissed me again and climbed out of the bed to take a shower. I stretched out onto my back and stared at the ceiling. Something wouldn't stop nagging me. What was it? And why?

_Hard to wake up from._

I threw on a pair of boxers and my robe and entered the study. I grabbed a few volumes from my reading collection and sat down on the couch with a fresh cup of coffee. Murphy swung by a bit later and gave me a stellar goodbye kiss that made me not want her to go to work, but I managed to hold it together enough to start reading. I looked for spells and symptoms related to horrible nightmares and memories of alternate lives.

That was when I found out about the djinn.

"Hell's bells," I muttered, my pulse throbbing quickly against my throat. There was a passage about what it felt like if a djinn had set its sights on someone. Everything felt completely real, but the subject would have no prior memory of their life before the dream had begun. They would be in a world almost exactly as their real one, but almost all of the negative traumatic things in their lives hadn't happened.

Like lost loved ones never dying and the woman of my dreams helping me raise my daughter.

I buried my fingers in my hair and shut my eyes, concentrating on the flicker of an image that I'd seen before my mother left. I gritted my teeth and reached for my will to amplify my concentration.

Sure enough, the images returned to me.

I felt cold and wet. I was underground. I knew by the smell of mold and earth. My eyes weren't open all the way, but just enough to see Murphy's pale face inches from my own. Fear sent a cold rush through me as she didn't move. Her eyes were halfway open as well and vacant, but then the puddle of water under her cheek stirred under her breath. She was alive. Thank God.

"It's not real," I whispered hoarsely. "This is a dream. It's all just a dream."

 _But you're happy,_ a voice whispered in my head. _You're so happy and whole. Isn't this enough? Isn't this what you've always wanted?_

"Happiness and peace aren't the same thing," I snarled at the voice in my head. "I don't need to be happy. Get me the hell out of this place."

_What about your family? They need you._

A lump formed in my throat, nearly choking me to silence. Maggie. I couldn't leave Maggie behind.

"That's not my daughter," I asserted. "The real Maggie is waiting for me. Let me out of here."

_Why go back? Why return to all that pain and suffering and loneliness? You could stay here and have everything you've ever wanted. Let it be someone else's turn to save the world and do the right thing. All it's ever done is bring you misery._

"Tough shit," I spat. "If misery is all I'm meant for, so be it. Last warning. Let me out or I'll kill you."

 _No,_ the voice said, sounding tired and disappointed. _You won't kill me, wizard. You'll die._

"Then I'll die awake."

I woke up on the floor of a cold, wet cave in Undertown.

I'd been lying facedown in freezing cold water, so the first thing I did was push up on my hands and cough out the mildew-tainted water that had dripped past my lips. Everything tilted sharply to one side and I shut my eyes as my body tried to find its equilibrium again. Once it did, I spotted a tattooed blue-skinned creature sitting on a throne made of earth not far away.

"So human," it sighed in a voice that was neither male nor female. "So primitive."

I struggled to my feet, feeling for weapons. Everything wasn't exactly coming back to me at once, but I fumbled for the blasting rod and pointed it dead center at the creature's chest. "Yeah, I get that a lot."

I gestured to Murphy's motionless form. "Wake her up."

"She has to choose to wake up, wizard," the djinn said. "And she isn't as stubborn as you are."

"Yeah," I snorted. "She's twice that. I'm not taking any chances. Wake her up."

"What for?" the djinn said. "For you to continue your attempts to apprehend me? I haven't hurt anyone."

"There are fourteen people in comas in my city," I snarled. "Those people have families. Lives."

"I have given them new ones. I have wiped away decades of grief and loneliness. Were you not at peace, wizard? Were you not happy?"

" _Fuck_ happy!" I screamed. My words bounced around me like a cavernous explosion and I realized just how hard I was shaking as I stood there with tears in my eyes. "You're feeding them a lie. A lie that hurts worse than anything in real life ever could. So here's the new deal: you get the fuck out of Chicago before I blow you to kingdom come. Hell, I might still do it anyway after what I just saw."

The djinn's plain features flickered with some emotion I couldn't identify. "Millennia have passed and I will never truly understand you humans. Real is only a matter of circumstance. Impulses in the brain. What I gave you was a gift and you rejected it simply because it wasn't the real that you have been taught your whole life. You'd rather feel real in hell than artificial in heaven."

"You're goddamn right," I whispered hoarsely. "Now choose."

I let my will flow up through me until I had enough soulfire to blast a crater in the moon. The djinn stared at the silver light, closed its eyes, and sighed deeply.

"Very well, wizard Dresden. It is a pity that I leave you. Of all the dreams I've seen in Chicago, yours was the most beautiful."

It vanished into a haze of blue vapor and was gone. The second after it vanished, Murphy gasped.

I knelt beside her and she jerked away, alarmed. "Murph, it's okay, it's me."

She flopped onto her back, pushing up on her elbows, blinking rapidly as her eyes cleared. "H-Harry?"

I smiled weakly. "The one and only."

She brushed her sopping wet hair out of her face. "I was...we were...what happened?"

"A very pretentious djinn who must have watched The Matrix at some point in its life," I said, brushing mud off her cheek. "It's gone now. For good."

Murphy shut her eyes. "Harry, did you see--"

"Yeah," I murmured. "I saw."

She curled in on herself, her voice hoarse with pain. "Fuck."

"I know. Me too." Murphy hated PDA, but we were alone in the dark, and I didn't give a shit. I pulled her into my arms and held her. She clung to me, her face buried under my chin, not quite sobbing, but she trembled with the effort to hold it in. I held her tighter.

"We beat it, Murphy," I told her a while later. "Those people will be safe. They'll get to go home to their families and so will we."

"You should have killed it," she whispered fiercely.

"Believe me, I wanted to, but I wasn't sure if doing that would release them or you."

"How did you wake up from it?"

A bitter smile crossed my lips. "Couldn't shake the feeling that things weren't fucked up enough to be real."

She laughed a little. "Sounds like you."

"Yeah, I'm a miserable bastard."

"Good husband, though."

I froze. She'd said it so quietly I could have missed it. Something terrifying and eager roared through me. Had she...?

I licked my cold lips. "Murphy...in your dream, were you and I--"

"Of course we were, you idiot," she murmured into my chest. "Who else would it be?"

Shit. That hurt damn near more than anything else I'd felt today. "Murph, I--"

"Shut up," she said, and then she lifted her head enough to kiss me. I wasn't cold anymore after that.

Murphy drew back from me after a bit, her lips pink, one hand on my neck, the other on my shoulder, and then she pressed her forehead to mine. "I didn't want to wake up, Harry. I wanted to stay."

I closed my eyes so I wouldn't see the tears--hers or mine. "I know. So did I. But we're only human."

We left Undertown. I drove us home. Murphy didn't say a single word the whole ride, but she climbed into bed with me that night and fell asleep in my arms.

And that was good enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *bawling her eyes out* I had been wanting to write the "Perchance to Dream" trope for a while but I had no fucking idea it would get this depressing and I am so sorry. Jesus Christ, it hurt me to write this shit, so I promise I'll find some lighthearted fluff for the next chapter. Goddamn, this punched me in the feels. I never realized how different Harry's life would be if all the bad shit hadn't happened. Man, I really want this poor man to be happy someday. Murphy too. Sigh.
> 
> *starts passing out booze*


	41. The Truth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath of "Perchance to Dream." Murphy's POV.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We need to heal after the previous chapter. Enjoy some HarriKarri healing.

_"I know you better than you think I do_

_Don't worry, dear_

_This is why I fell in love with you_

_The man in the looking glass is looking back at you at last_

_You can't hide from the truth_

_Because the truth is all there is_

_[...]_

_If happy times are too few and far between_

_It's a pity, dear_

_We can't erase the things we've seen_

_So disappear, vanish if you wish_

_Just go before you're swallowed up by bitterness_

_And the truth is you can't hide from the truth_

_And the truth hurts because the truth is all there is..."_

_-"The Truth" by Handsome Boy Modeling School_

 

"Be careful what you wish for; it might come true." If ever there was a more excellent warning, I didn't know it, not after last night.

I woke up in Harry's bed. In his arms too. Not that it was important. Well, it was and it wasn't. He and I had reached a point of intimacy in our relationship where touching was no longer a rare, forbidden thing. Touching him felt natural now. Necessary. And maybe, secretly, it had always been something I'd wanted to do more and more over the years. A long time ago, I'd have protested when he drove us back to his borrowed apartment, but not after last night. We both needed this. We both needed to heal.

Harry mumbled something incoherent and shifted until he'd buried his face in my hair, his warm breath rolling over the nape of my neck. It was absurdly cute. I smiled to myself. He was starting to wake up. Made sense. I checked my watch. It was around eight o'clock. My version of sleeping in.

Harry was nearly two feet taller than me. I'd anticipated it might be a little awkward to spoon, but surprisingly, it wasn't. He'd folded himself around me like a gigantic cat. He had one long arm looped around my waist to hold me to his chest. He was warm and he smelled like leather and aftershave. I felt his steady breaths against my spine and each one kept me calm. I needed that after last night. After the dream that I didn't want to wake from.

The dream that involved the two of us being married.

I suppressed a shudder at the memory. It wasn't unlike what we were doing right now. I'd woken up in bed with him, no memory of how I'd gotten there, and we were both naked, which was...ahem...quite a sight. Harry was excellent at being naked, in case you were wondering. At first, I'd been scared and suspicious--mostly scared that we'd done something irrational and I hadn't remembered it--and he'd told me I'd had a bad dream. My real memories felt like a distant thing. A nightmare. He'd held me in his arms and assured me that the things I'd told him weren't true. We were happy. My father was alive. My sister and I had a good, healthy relationship. I was still head of S.I. and I'd won the respect of my superiors after I nailed a huge case that saved hundreds of lives.

And it had all been a big fat fucking lie in the end.

"You're grinding your teeth," Harry murmured into my neck in an exhausted, but amused tone.

I relaxed the tension out of my jaw. "Sorry. Did I wake you?"

"Mm-mm," he said. I expected him to pull away, but he didn't. I licked my lips and tried to process that information. Interesting turn of events.

"How'd you sleep?"

I snorted. "Not too bad, given the circumstances. You?"

"Horribly," he admitted. "But that's nothing new, I guess."

I almost smiled again. "You're cheerful in the morning."

"Just a regular old ray of sunshine."

We lapsed into silence for a bit. He still didn't pull away. _Thud, thud, thud,_ went my heart. _Come on, Murphy. Get it together. You're a grown woman, not a hormonal teenager._

"Should we talk?" he whispered after a while.

I shrugged. He pinched my thigh. "That wasn't an answer, Murph."

I sighed and rolled over to face him. He let me, lifting his arm, and resettled it across my hip. He had a guarded look on his face, as if he were a puppy expecting to get kicked for bad behavior. I didn't move his arm. Some small amount of relief entered his features then. He liked touching me too. _Thud, thud, thud,_ went my heart.

"I don't know where to start," I said. "I shouldn't be this...angry, but I am. I'm furious."

"About what?"

"How I handled it," I said, annoyed as my throat tightened. "How I stopped asking questions in the dream because I wanted to believe the lie. I knew deep down that the past twenty years of my life couldn't have just been one big nightmare, but I wanted the life I saw in that dream so badly that I just ignored it. I ignored the truth, Harry. That's dangerous. That gets people killed."

"You're human, Murphy," he told me. "Who the hell wouldn't want a perfect version of their life? To be freed from pain and anxiety and the memories that haunt us no matter how we try to bury them? Why do you think the djinn got to so many people? We all crave that deep down. It doesn't make you weak."

"It does," I spat. "I should have known better. I shouldn't have given in. I should have gotten out so that I could help you."

"You did, Murphy. In your own way. What I saw in my dream, it..." He sighed, shutting his eyes. "It was everything I ever wanted."

He opened his eyes again and there was steel in his gaze. "But it wasn't the truth. I only knew that because of you. Because of what you've been through. What you've taught me over the years. Getting justice for the victims in your department taught me what's real is most important. You can't blame yourself for being tempted because you still believe in the truth, even now, Murphy. You always have and you always will. We'll get through this the way we always have. Together."

"That scares the shit out of me," I whispered.

"What?"

I nibbled my lip for a moment and reached out enough to touch his cheek. "This. You know me, Harry. I always retreat when I'm hurt or scared, but I didn't this time. I'm here. With you."

He smiled. "I'm scared too. But I think we both needed this."

I shut my eyes. "I'm so confused. I want to go there with you, Harry. I just don't know if I'm ready for everything that comes along with it. Letting go has never been my strong suit."

"No one said you had to make a decision right away. You told me you needed time. I'm fine with that."

I looked at him then, something bitter in my smile. "Yeah, and at the rate I'm going, I'll be in my fifties by the time I'm ready and it'll be harder to do all the fun stuff."

Harry's brown eyes twinkled. "Hey, you're never too old to have fun."

 _Thud, thud, thud_ \--dammit! "Can I ask you something personal?" I blurted out thanks to my idiotic racing heart.

"Always."

I lowered my gaze to his chest and slid my hand down over his heart. _Thud, thud, thud._ Aha. So it wasn't just me. "In your dream...did we do...married people things?"

Harry cleared his throat. Out of my periphery, I saw him blush. "Maybe."

Which was Dresden for "yes." I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. "So do you think we should talk about the fact that we were together physically in both of our versions of a perfect life?"

Harry licked his lips and shifted nervously. "Probably."

 _Thudthudthudthud_ , went both of our hearts.

"Screw it," I muttered, and leaned in the few inches between us to kiss him.

Oh, hell. Bad move, Murphy. His lips were so soft. I hadn't forgotten that kiss on the back of my Harley. It had been seared into my memory so perfectly. Even cold and wet and in the middle of a war zone, it had been nothing short of magnificent. Last night, I'd kissed him because I needed to feel something real, something familiar, something mine and mine alone. It was for comfort, not lust. This kiss was nothing like it. It was fire and honey. I'd surprised him, but he melted into it after a second or two, and his hand glided from my waist to the small of my back. He massaged the spot in a slow circle and the simple pleasure of that one gesture nearly blew my brain out the back of my skull.

Then he purred into my mouth and slipped me the tongue.

Five minutes later, I was in his lap kissing the living daylights out of him.

As you can see, I'm great at self control.

Harry arched into me as I slipped my hands under his sleeveless shirt and raked my nails down over his abs, groaning deeply, which sent heavenly vibrations up my thighs. I couldn't think straight. All that hot, firm skin over hard muscles. He was brave and determined and compassionate. And I'd been fooling myself thinking I wasn't absolutely fucking crazy about him.

My life wasn't perfect. It would never be perfect.

But that didn't mean it couldn't have perfect moments.

"Murphy," he panted out a while later, after he'd worked those big hands underneath my shirt, after cultivating some very unladylike noises out of me with the way he moved those narrow hips under my thighs. "I don't know if we should--"

I kissed him, smiling. "Relax. I'm sampling the goods. I'm not ready to make a purchase yet."

Harry choked on a laugh. "Great, then we're on the same page."

I yelped as he rolled us over and grinned down at me with mischief in his eyes. I couldn't help but match that fierce, bright, hopeful grin. "Look with your hands, not with your eyes, Dresden."

"Yes ma'am."

 

 

 

 


	42. Eavesdrop

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marion Murphy happens upon Harry and Murphy at an...inopportune moment. Drabble.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's nothing explicit in here, I swear. Just lolz. Please continue.

"Karrie?" Marion Murphy called as she unlocked the door and pushed it open. "You home, dear?"

She listened out for a moment and then shut the front door, glancing into the den and the kitchen consecutively. She didn't hear anything at first, so she headed into the kitchen, humming under her breath as she searched through the cabinets for the large silver pot she needed to borrow. Just as she thought she'd located it, she heard the distant murmur of Karrin's voice.

Smiling, Marion stood and headed towards the bedroom. Her hand was on the doorknob when she heard a second voice.

A second _male_ voice.

"Look, I can't put it in that way. It won't fit."

Marion Murphy stopped dead in her tracks.

"It will fit," Karrin said in return. "Just turn this way."

"Your head's on crooked. It's not going to fit, Karrin."

"I've had it my whole life, Harry. I'm pretty sure I know if it'll fit."

An enormous blush swallowed Marion's cheeks. She heard movement, a small grunt, and then Harry's exasperated sigh. "And now it's stuck."

"It is not stuck, you giant nuisance. Just wiggle it and it'll come loose."

"It's jammed in there. Wiggling's not going to do much, Murph."

"Oh, for heaven's sake, Harry. It's like you've never done this before."

Something smug entered his voice. "Not with you, I haven't."

"Pig." Something wooden shifted and then Karrin sighed. "There. See? I told you so. Now turn around and put it back in."

Marion crossed herself and prayed for forgiveness. Just as she turned to flee, she heard the kettle on the stove screech as the hot water reached boiling temperatures.

"Oh, damn," Marion heard her daughter sigh. "One sec."

Before she could move, the door opened. Karrin took one step and froze.

"Uh. Mom. Hi."

Marion gave her daughter a strained smile. "Hi, sweetie. I just, uh, came by to pick up that pot for dinner Saturday night. Don't mind me. I didn't mean to interrupt."

Karrin frowned at her. "Interrupt what?"

"Murph, who's that?" Harry appeared behind Karrin a moment later and then jumped as he spotted Marion.

"Oh, Mrs. Murphy, good to see you. Didn't hear you come in."

Marion cleared her throat. "No, I suspect you didn't. I'll just be going now."

She swept into the kitchen, grabbed the pot, and hurried out the door post haste. Murphy went into the kitchen and took the kettle off the stove, still frowning at the front door. "That was weird."

"What was weird?" Harry asked, grabbing an apple from the bowl on the table.

"She's usually not so...withdrawn, I guess. She usually stays to chat unless there's--" Murphy abruptly stopped talking.

"What?" Harry asked.

"Oh, _no_ ," Murphy whispered, bowing her head. "Goddammit."

"What's wrong?"

She turned to face him, her face strained with equal parts embarrassment and frustration. "Think about what the two of us said while we were fixing the bed frame."

Harry lifted his eyebrows in question. Murphy elaborated. "It won't fit. It's stuck."

It dawned on him a moment later. He buried his burning face in both hands. "Oh, no. She thought we were--"

"Yes," Karrin sighed. "She absolutely thought that. I am never going to hear the end of this, am I?"

"Not for as long as either of us lives. First things first, we're changing the lock on your front door."

"I'll go get my screwdriver."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Jim Butcher-ish cackling*


	43. Stay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Few things in this world are as terrifying as Karrin Murphy with a cold. Luckily, Harry Dresden is a brave enough wizard to take care of her anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, yes, I know, everyone does the sick fic, but I couldn't resist. For the record, I also HIGHLY recommend "Down with the Sickness" on ff.net if you want some truly quality sick fic goodness between Harry and Murphy. This is just fluff for the sake of fluff.

_Save up all the days_  
_A routine malaise_  
_Just like yesterday_  
_I told you I would stay_

 _Would you always?_  
_Maybe sometimes?_  
_Make it easy?_  
_Take your time_

 _Think of all the ways_  
_Momentary phase_  
_Just like yesterday_  
_I told you I would stay_

 _Every time you try_  
_Quarter half a mile_  
_Just like yesterday_  
_I told you I would stay..._

-"Two Weeks" by Grizzly Bear

There was a thin line between brave and insane, and tonight, I was tap-dancing all over it.

I took a deep breath and rapped my knuckles against the front door. A minute went by. Two. Two and a half. Then it creaked open to reveal my worst nightmare.

"Dresden," Karrin Murphy croaked, glaring at me with her bloodshot eyes, dark circles beneath them, a cherry-red nose, mussed blonde hair, and pale skin. "Go home before I kill you."

"You say the sweetest things to me sometimes," I said cheekily.

Her scowl deepened. "I mean it."

I brandished the half-full plastic bag in one hand. "I come bearing gifts. I'll be quick, I promise."

She glared harder. "Who told you? Rawlins?"

I adopted a haughty look. "I'm an investigator, remember?"

Murphy started to slam the door in my face, but I caught it with one hand and chuckled. "C'mon, Murph, you know I'll stand out on your porch all night otherwise. The neighbors will get ideas."

That seemed to appeal to her sensibilities. She grunted and stepped aside finally. "Too late for that, trust me."

I slipped inside her foyer and shivered a bit. She'd turned the thermostat down. Maybe she had a fever. Worry curled up inside my gut like a tapeworm, but I tried to shake it off.

After locking the door, she shuffled around to face me and stuck one hand into the bag without preamble. She withdrew a brand new bottle of Jim Bean Honey and her eyes closed in pleasure. "God, I could kiss you right now."

I waggled my eyebrows and leaned towards her, puckering my lips. "Okay, but just _one_."

She hit me in the chest lightly, fighting a smile. I handed her the bag and took the bottle. "Here, allow me."

I went into her kitchen and grabbed a glass, pouring a healthy two-fingers' worth since I had a hunch she hadn't taken her cold medicine yet. One glance at the den had revealed stacks of empty Kleenex boxes perched on every available surface, a trash can pulled up right next to the couch for the used ones, and empty wrappers of Ricola cough drops. There was a tea kettle on the stove with steam still rising from the spout. She trailed after me and held the glass in both hands after I gave it to her, taking a long sip and sighing wistfully.

"When's the last time you ate?"

She eyed me. "When's the last time _you_ ate?"

I rolled my eyes. "I'm not the sick one, Sarge. Answer the question."

"Recently."

I made an obvious glance at the empty sink and then narrowed my eyes at her. She didn't budge. Stubborn woman. I shook my head and dug into the plastic bag, withdrawing cans of Progresso chicken noodle soup. "You can't drink Jim Bean on an empty stomach, Murph. Even I know that."

"Look, I was going to eat when I finished reading the file," she groused, taking the box of Saltine crackers out of the bag and popping a sleeve open to munch away at one.

I gave her a severe look as I found one of the pots. "You're working? Really, Murph?"

She frowned at me. "Crime doesn't sleep."

"That's what S.I. is for. No work until you're better."

Murphy glared. "You're not the boss of me, Dresden."

"I am when you're being unreasonable," I snapped, dumping two cans' worth of soup into the pot. "I've appointed myself your director of healthcare. Now go sit down on the couch and get warm."

"Make me," she said tartly.

I flipped the burner on and then took a deep breath to reel in my temper. She was doing this on purpose. Murphy hated looking weak around anyone, even me, so she wanted to goad me into getting frustrated so she could go back to stubbornly trying to finish her case files instead of getting better. I'd be angrier, but then again, I'd probably have done the same thing in her position.

I walked over and stooped down to her height. "I'm not leaving until you eat your soup and take some medicine."

"I can take care of myself, Dresden."

"Really? Doesn't look that way to me." I handed her the sleeve of Saltines and pointed at the den. "Couch. Now."

Her cheeks reddened with anger. "You are such a bastard sometimes."

"Yep."

I turned away and started stirring the soup. I felt her hot gaze on my back for a moment or two, but then the floorboards creaked as she stalked off for the den. A relieved sigh escaped me.

I brought her the hot soup and another mug of mint-lemon tea. By now, she had bundled up under a blanket with a manila folder in one hand and a tissue in the other. She still had that sullen look about her, but she didn't refuse the items when I handed them to her. I set about cleaning up her den of all the empty Kleenex boxes and cough drop wrappers while she ate. Once she finished the soup and the tea, I swept by, taking the folder out of her hands. She glanced up to see me holding out an absurdly tiny plastic cup filled to the brim with NyQuil.

"Seriously, Dresden?"

"You want me to leave, right?" I said.

"I don't have time for this--"

"Too bad. Drink it or I'm staying over."

She gritted her teeth. It was hard to have a glaring contest when you couldn't meet eyes for more than a few seconds, but the two of us managed just fine.

Eventually, Murphy snatched the miniature cup and downed the disgusting cold medicine, slapping it back into my hand. "Bastard."

"You're welcome," I sneered before replacing the cap on the bottle and tucking it away in her bathroom. I shut the cabinet a little too hard and closed my eyes to focus for a second. Damn her. I shouldn't have been this angry, and part of me knew I wasn't really all that mad, just worried. I didn't like Murphy rattling around in here by herself, stubbornly refusing to take care of herself because of work. She shouldn't have had to be here alone. There should have been some husband type to pick up the slack. She deserved that. She deserved to be happy and cared for, more than anyone else I knew. I hated that she isolated herself like this when she was ill, but then again, I shouldn't have thrown stones in a glass house. I got pretty bad when I was sick too.

I cleaned up her bathroom as well just to give myself a bit of time to calm down. Couldn't fight fire with fire, after all. We'd both just end up burning bridges.

I returned to the den only to find her curled up on the arm of the couch asleep. I winced. God, she'd been even more exhausted than I'd thought. I hadn't been gone long, maybe fifteen minutes or so.

Sighing, I slipped my arms beneath her back and her knees, scooping her up as gently as possible. If she caught me doing this, she'd kick my ass once she got better, but it was worth the risk. I carried her into the bedroom and slipped off her sweatpants--don't worry, she had a huge t-shirt on and I didn't see anything, I swear--before tucking her beneath her grandmother's knit quilt. I shut off the lamp and turned to go, but then her hand lashed out and caught my sleeve. I winced, turning to face the music.

"Harry," Murphy mumbled drowsily, her lashes long and silver in the moonlight from the window.

"Hmm?" I said in return.

She tugged on my arm until I had to lean down over her and whispered, "Come back tomorrow. Bring more Jim Bean."

I laughed. "Yes ma'am."

Then she surprised the hell out of me by tilting her face enough to kiss me and then promptly conked out cold on the pillow. I blushed furiously and couldn't stop a fond, dopey smile from crossing my lips as I tucked her golden hair behind her ear.

"See you tomorrow, Murph."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> By the way, you should absolutely listen to Grizzly Bear's "Two Weeks" if you've never heard it before. It's so freaking soothing and adorable that I use it as my alarm clock song for work days.


	44. By Any Other Name

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry reveals his Name to Murphy. It has an...interesting effect on him. Post Cold Days, but pre Skin Game.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooooooo remember a few chapters ago in "Taste" when Murphy said Harry's Name and it rustled his jimmies? Here's a different take on that idea. Because why not?
> 
> And again, don't take the canon to heart here. Let go, let flow.

_Can't explain_   
_Nor can I contain_   
_Control_   
_You have on my soul_   
_'Cause all I do is, baby, dream of you_   
_I'm falling down when you're around_   
_You're the only one_   
_You're the only one_   
_I'm so wrapped up in a daze_   
_Hoping this is just a phase_   
_But when all is said and done_   
_I know you are still the one..._   
_-"The Only One" by The Black Keys_

 

"Harry? Can I ask you a question?"

"The answer is yes."

Karrin Murphy glanced up from the wound she'd been carefully applying antiseptic cream to across the wide, flat, scarred skin between Harry's shoulder blades. "To what question?"

"Yes, you absolutely can take me to Burger King and treat me to a meal after the absolutely heinous day we just had."

Murphy scowled and flicked his ear. He chuckled good-naturedly. "What's on your mind, Murph?"

She set the cream aside and balanced on knee on the bed, tucking a stray lock of blonde hair behind her ear as she steadied a bandage down over the wound and smoothed it into place. "Earlier with that Summer Court fairie...when he was trying to bargain with you, he asked about your name. Your full name. Why did he do that?"

"Oh," Harry said. "Names, like words in general, have power to them. You can conjure by them, but it's more than that too. Knowing someone's Name is different from just a first and last name. It's a piece of who they are and that knowledge can be used to empower or destroy the person if someone puts their mind to it. Wizards have to be careful with who they let know it. Some of the magic community use names like currency for favors or bargains."

"So how many people in your personal life know your Name?"

Harry paused. "Four that I know of."

"Wow," she murmured. "You take it pretty seriously, then."

He nodded. "Conjure at your own risk."

He glanced over his shoulder, trying to read her expression as she moved to the next cut. He'd been lucky this time. With Murphy as backup, he'd only gotten hit twice. It would have been a lot worse without her help. "Why the sudden interest?"

Murphy shrugged. "Just curious."

"Trying to find my weaknesses, are you?"

She rolled her eyes. "Trust me, I've got that laundry list memorized by now."

"Remind me not to get on your bad side."

"Harry, don't get on my bad side."

"Hey, don't tell me what to do."

She pinched him in the side. He chuckled again. "Alright, Captain Subtle, you've convinced me. I'll tell you, but you can't make fun. My dad, uh, was a bit of a dork."

"So that's where you get it from," she said mildly, her hands steady as she pressed the bandage over the wound.

Harry cleared his throat. "My Name is Harry Blackstone Copperfield Dresden."

His heart rate picked up just a little bit, though not for long. Some small fragile part of him still worried over showing vulnerability to anyone, even someone he trusted the way he trusted Murphy. It had been one of the worst side effects of DuMorne's tampering. Somewhere deep inside, Harry was scared of opening up and being wrong, of finding out a person he'd trusted had only wanted to hurt him or use him. Murphy would never do that, but the fear didn't care.

"Hmm," Murphy said, tilting her head in contemplation. "Harry Blackstone Copperfield Dresden. Nice ring to it, honestly."

Harry didn't hear anything after 'Dresden.' A second after Murphy's warm, melodic voice had finished pronouncing the syllables of his Name, Harry's entire body broke out into goosebumps. He shuddered as an explosion of pleasure crawled up his spine and spread liquid heat through his veins. He grabbed the edge of the bed in both of his large hands and squeezed as he tried to ride it out, gritting his teeth as arousal quickly followed the accidentally triggered magic. Something of a low, hungry growl slipped from his lips before he could stop it and he felt Murphy freeze behind him. Harry's eyes snapped open and he leapt up from the bed, tripping over his own feet in his haste. He stood there for a second, shocked, rattled, and breathing hard in the awkward silence.

"Uh," Murphy said, her blue eyes wide, her cheeks turning rosier by the second. "What just happened?"

"Nothing!" Harry lied.

Murphy lifted a golden eyebrow. "That was the most orgasmic 'nothing' I've ever heard."

Harry's already prominent blush intensified. "I-It wasn't a... _that_...okay?"

Murphy pulled her legs over the bed and sat, crossing her arms and staring at him. "Then what was it?"

Harry licked his lips and cleared his throat as he scratched the back of his neck and avoided her gaze. "It, uh, it's sorta hard to explain."

"Try me."

"If, uh, if someone says a person's Name in the right way, it can have certain....side effects. Especially if it's someone who has a history with the person."

"Even if the person isn't a practitioner?"

"Correct. You and I have known each other a long time and we've, uh, held hands and kissed before, so you're one of the only people on that list who can cause... _that_...to happen."

A slow, mischievous smile slid across Murphy's lips that made Harry's pants feel a little tighter than they already were. "So...you're saying technically I could do it again?"

Harry blushed harder. "Technically? Yes."

Murphy tapped a fingertip over her mouth. "Is there a limit to how many times I can do it?"

"Murph, come on, give me a break. I'm embarrassed enough as it is."

She eyed him. "Oh, like you wouldn't exploit the situation if our roles were reversed, Dresden."

"I absolutely would not do that to you."

Murphy just stared at him. Harry squirmed. "More than once, okay?"

"That's what I thought." She stood and cleared the items off the bed, tucking them into the open First Aid kit on the nightstand. "Well, now that I'm aware of this information, there are two things you need to know."

Harry got a sinking feeling in his stomach. "Which are?"

"One, relax, I'm not going to make fun of you for your reaction," she said, smiling in a much softer, gentler way to let him know she'd been teasing him. "This doesn't have to be as weird as you're making it out to be. After all, you're right. You and I, we...we've been intimate for a long time now. We went past the point of being just friends years ago. You trust me. I trust you. That's why this works."

Some of the tension in Harry's back and shoulders relaxed slightly. He let out a breath he'd been holding and nodded. "Okay."

"Two," she said, adding a slight purr to her voice. "When we were on Demonreach, I said that I needed some time. That's still true."

That sly smile from a moment ago returned in full force. "Knowing that I can do this to you might have just accelerated the timeline somewhat."

She lifted onto her tiptoes and kissed him lightly on the lips. "So be a good boy and maybe we can do this again sometime soon."

Harry's knees nearly gave out as she winked at him and left him standing there, weak-kneed, short of breath, and absolutely certain that he wanted that more than anything in the world.


	45. Four Letter Word

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Three times Harry and Murphy said "I love you" before Turn Coat (and one time when it was implied). Drabbles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It occurred to me that I think the first time we as readers ever see Harry and Murphy exchange those vital three words to each other is Turn Coat, but I am absolutely certain it's come up before in smaller moments. These are humor based, but don't be surprised if there's a part two someday with more serious exchanges. 
> 
> Also, I fudged the canon a bit with that last one, so just fair warning. I'm probably going to play around with that soul thing we learned about from Bob before long too. I love the idea that Harry and Murphy exchanged parts of their souls through that hug in White Night. That is the sweetest damn thing ever, if you ask me.

_Love, love is strange_  
_Lot of people take it for a game_  
_Once you get it, you never wanna quit_  
_After you've had it, you're in an awful fix_  
_-"Love is Strange" by Mickey and Sylvia_

**#1:**

"Shit!"

Harry threw himself to one side as the Black Court vampire's ragged claws swiped at his head. It had missed so closely it ruffled his hair. He landed hard on his back and pumped the action on the shotgun, aiming high. A loud click answered him instead of a thunderous roar of blessed buckshot. The snarling monster's crooked mouth with too many teeth widened as it stood over him and raised one arm to decapitate him.

Then its head exploded.

Harry brought his arm up just in time to block the splatter of undead brains that splashed down on him. The corpse twitched and tumbled bonelessly down next to him on its back, revealing the five-foot-nothing blonde cop behind it with a shotgun that matched Harry's. Murphy blew a lock of hair out of her eyes and gave him a tart little smile.

"What would you do without me, Dresden?"

Harry let out a weak laugh as she offered him her hand. "God, I love you."

Murphy snorted and yanked him to his feet. "Don't get all mushy on me, Dresden. We're not out of this thing yet."

Harry dug another pair of shotgun shells out of the pocket of his duster and reloaded. "That we aren't, but I stand by what I said regardless."

Murphy brought her shotgun back up to her shoulder and scanned the hallway. "If you propose to me after we get out of here, I'm going to punch your lights out."

Harry grinned before following her into the darkness. "Worth it."

-

**#2:**

"Have I mentioned lately how much I regret knowing you?" Murphy asked as she scraped entire globs of ectoplasm off of her shoulders, chest, and arms.

"Yeah," Harry said with a sigh, wincing as it squelched beneath his boots when he walked over to her. "I get that a lot from the people I love. It's just a given."

He scooped a handful out of her blonde hair and flung it onto the ground, then started trying to get it off of her ponytail. He noticed a second later that she hadn't offered another snide remark and glanced down to see Murphy looking up at him with wide eyes and rosy cheeks. "What?"

"N-Nothing," she lied, averting her gaze down to his chest where she could see claw marks that had torn his t-shirt. "Did it get you?"

"It's shallow," Harry said. "I'll be alright."

He paused and grinned. "But you should definitely go get your leather jacket before you get arrested for solicitation."

Confused, Murphy glanced down and noticed the ectoplasm had turned her white t-shirt completely transparent and thus revealed the black bra beneath it. She growled and punched him in the stomach, which made him chuckle, and stomped off towards her car.

-

**#3:**

"It's official," Murphy groaned, rolling her head back against the driver's seat. "This is the most bored I have ever been in my entire life."

"Agreed," Harry said with a sigh. "I swear, if this idiot doesn't go out and commit a crime in the next five minutes, I'll be the one to do it just so I can get out this freaking car. God, are all stake outs this horrible?"

"The heat wave's not helping," Murphy admitted. "But most of them are insanely grating. Doesn't help that we're tired and hungry too."

"Speaking of which..." Harry shifted enough to get his wallet out and checked how many bills he had. "I think we've both earned a hot dog."

Murphy scowled. "I'm on a diet, Harry."

He scowled right back. "You look amazing. I could bounce a quarter off your--"

Murphy settled her hand near the gun under her arm. Harry cleared his throat. "--abs. One hot dog is not going to ruin your figure, Murph. Besides, you'll burn the extra calories right off chasing after this idiot once he leaves the apartment."

She crossed her arms. "I'm fine without one."

Exactly a second after she spoke, her stomach growled. Loudly. Murphy's cheeks reddened and Harry started beaming. "Be right back, Murph."

He slipped out of the car and walked down the sidewalk to the hot dog vendor. Once there, he waved to her cheerfully as the guy started making the hot dogs. Murphy cheerfully flipped him off, which made him laugh. He climbed back into the car, and the instant he did, the mouthwatering scent of freshly grilled meat hit her nostrils and her stomach damn near crawled out of her body to get at it.

"A chili dog?" Murphy screeched as Harry handed it to her. "You bastard."

"Whaaaat?" Harry said. "He had just made a fresh batch, Murph. Who can say no to that?"

She seethed as he handed her the carton with the delicious, fattening hot dog upon it, already decorated with chili, cheese, and the perfect amount of mustard. "I hate you."

Harry took a huge bite of his own, chewed, and swallowed. "You love me."

She bit into the chili dog. Chewed. Swallowed. Her eyes closed in pleasure. "Goddammit, Harry."

"I love you too, Murphy."

-

**#4:**

"There's got to be another way to find him," Murphy said, turning away from Thomas and raking her hair away from her forehead. "We're running out of time."

"I know," he said grimly, pacing back and forth over the rug. "The amulet usually works, but maybe whoever took him thought of that already."

"Maybe it's not about something as obvious as the amulet," Murphy said. "Harry's always talking about how magic is powered by emotion. Neither of us can perform any kind of magic, but Harry's mentor Ebenezar is bound to know something."

Thomas nodded. "Worth a try. Hang on, I'll get him on the phone."

"You're on the right track," Ebenezar said, his voice partially obscured through the static occasionally popping in speaker of Harry's old rotary phone. Murphy held it between the two of them so they could hear. "Emotion's a hell of a thing to a wizard. It's what makes all of this work."

"Then what do you suggest?" Murphy asked.

"If I can swing it, I can meet you at Harry's place and we can try to see if there's a piece of his soul still hanging around."

"Wait, what?" Thomas demanded. "You don't mean he's--"

"No, not what I meant," Ebenezar reassured him. "Souls aren't exactly one whole piece. It's more like a liquid, I guess. People share their souls all the time with each other through various actions. Both of you are close with Harry and so he's no doubt shared part of his soul with you by now. If it's been recently enough, there might be a way to finagle that into a tracking spell. Which of you has had the most recent contact with him?"

Murphy glanced at Thomas, who shook his head a bit. "I haven't seen him since last week."

"I guess that would be me," Murphy said. "I saw him two days ago before he went missing."

"Uh-huh. Did you have any physical contact with him, Miss Murphy?"

Thomas cast a sly look at her then and she glared. "Oh, blow me, vampire."

Ebenezar snorted. "Still need an answer, Miss Murphy."

She gritted her teeth and pretended she wasn't blushing. "Yes. He gave me a hug."

"I've seen the boy gives hugs before. I think that'll do the trick. Harry doesn't do anything half-assed; when the boy loves, he loves hard. Give me twenty minutes and I'll be there." He hung up. Murphy put the phone back on the cradle and shot a glare at Thomas.

"Not a word, Raith."

Thomas grinned and winked at her as he headed into the den. "Whatever you say, Sergeant."


	46. The Cat and the Canary

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Murphy gets turned into a cat. Crackfic/Fluff mashup.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm frustrated with life and I need to make people laugh. Please enjoy some HarriKarri crackfic. Basically, this is just a humorous reversal of "The Wolf" chapter. I think Harry is definitely a dog and Murphy is definitely a cat in terms of personality anyway.

_Boy, I will be your sexy silk_

_Wrap me around, 'round, 'round, 'round_

_I'll be your pussycat_

_Licking your milk right now_

_Down, down, down_

_Oh, a kiss can last all night_

_You'll have to seduce me nibble and bite_

_But oh no, no, no, whoa whoa, go slow_

_Baby, don't_

_Whoa, whoa, whoa_

_Boy, you're gonna win_

_Say yeah, yeah, yeah_

_You're under my skin_

_I've got butterflies within_

_Oh! I think I like you..._

_-"Sexy Silk" by Jessie J_

"We have a big problem," I told my brother Thomas as he wrenched open the door to my apartment.

The White Court vampire sighed. "When do we _not_ have a big problem, Harry? What the hell is it this time?"

I pulled my duster to one side to reveal the orange tabby curled up against my chest, resting in the crook of my arm. Thomas lifted an eyebrow. "Harry, at the rate you're going, you'll be one of those gross old cat ladies before you even hit forty."

I clenched my teeth. "It's not a normal cat, Thomas. It's Murphy."

Thomas stared at me. "So I take it you've finally lost your marbles, then?"

I shoved the door open all the way and barged my way inside. "This isn't a joke, man. She and I were hunting this warlock chick and we had her pinned, but then she flung this crazy spell I've never even heard of and--and--look!"

I held the cat out underneath her arms. Thomas kept giving me that patient 'they're coming to take you away, haa-haa' look he had perfected and accepted the animal. He flicked his gaze down at the cat's frosty blue eyes and said in a droll tone, "Blink twice if you're Karrin Murphy, furball."

Cat Murphy was not amused. Cat Murphy hissed and scratched his nose. Thomas let her go. She landed neatly on her tiny paws and licked her chops, aiming a hateful glare at the wincing vampire. Thomas rubbed the tip of his nose, scowling at the cat.

"If that actually is you, Karrin, you and I are going to have a conversation about your manners once we turn you back into yourself."

Cat Murphy turned her back on him and lifted her tail, somehow conveying how little she cared with that one gesture. Thomas arched his eyebrow again as he watched her stalk off into the den and jump on the couch. He glanced back at me, noticing my agitation this time, and frowned. "Wait, you're not serious, are you? That's really what's left of Karrin Murphy? Ass-kicking, sword-swinging, banter-flinging, tiny angel of death Karrin Murphy?"

"The very same," I said, shucking off my duster. "And we've got to figure out how to change her back pronto."

"Empty night," Thomas sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Do you ever have a normal day?"

"Once," I muttered as I shuffled towards the fridge. "It was a Thursday."

I rooted around in my pantry until I located a can of tuna. "I lost the warlock's trail after she hit Karrin with that spell, so I've got to see if there's a way to track her. Wasn't able to grab any hairs, but I might have an idea of where she's going."

"Do you really think you'll need to nab her? Can't you work up a counter spell?" Thomas asked, grabbing a bowl from the cabinet.

"It's dangerous if you don't know the root spell that it came from. I'm not going to risk hurting her or making it any worse."

Thomas glanced into the den to see Murphy sniffing the pillows. "Does she respond like normal Karrin at all or is she just a cat?"

"Hard to say," I said. "Cats aren't as obvious with their emotions as dogs. I should know."

"Speaking of which..." He pointed and I blanched as I noticed Mister had hopped down from his perch on the bookcase and plopped down right next to Cat Murphy. He'd heard me opening the can of tuna and had assumed it was for his benefit, but then he got distracted by the newcomer.

"Mister," I said in warning as the giant tomcat eyed Cat Murphy. "Behave."

To her credit, Cat Murphy just stared right up at Mister, who was easily twice her size, without moving from her spot in the center cushion of my couch. Mister stared right back at her and meowed once in annoyance, as if testing her. Cat Murphy blinked once, slowly, and promptly curled up into a cat loaf in front of him, fearlessly laying her head down as if to nap. Mister got very offended by the gesture and jumped down from the couch, padding over to me. He batted at my knee and gave me a plaintive wail of distaste. Insanity of the situation aside, it was rather amusing.

"Yep," Thomas said, shaking his head. "That's Karrin alright. Well, let's get to work turning your girlfriend back into an actual girl."

I glared and spooned half the can of tuna into a bowl for the disgruntled tomcat. "She's not my girlfriend, Thomas."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. Still wouldn't kill you to get some pussy for once--ow!" He rubbed the back of his head after I lobbed the empty can at it.

Cat Murphy lifted her head when I entered the den. I set the bowl on the coffee table and she hopped onto it, giving it a sniff and then tucking in. I gave her a bowl of water as well and then went down into the lab to prod Bob for some answers.

He gave them to me. After he was done laughing his bony head off. Asshole.

I sent Thomas out to track the warlock while I fixed up a potion per Bob's instruction. I kept an ear out for a potential death match between Mister and Cat Murphy, but I didn't hear any commotion and assumed Mister had gone on strike. Mouse was out at the groomer's, and I was very grateful for the timing on that front. There was no telling how Cat Murphy would respond to an already huge dog being about four times her size.

"Alright, so now what?" I asked Bob once I had the potion cooling from off the burner.

"Now we wait," Bob said. "Needs to be room temperature in order to work. Well, off you go. Go pet your pussy."

I glared at the skull. "Bob, I swear to God, I'll let her take a dump in one of your eye-holes."

Bob chortled. "So cranky, Harry. It's only a little transmogrifying. She probably won't remember a single thing once she's back to normal. Loosen up, will you?"

I grumbled insults under my breath to offset the blush on my cheeks and climbed up the ladder. I collapsed on the couch and ran my hands down my face as exhaustion started to kick in. I checked my watch. Hell's bells. I'd been making that potion for the past three hours. It was nearly midnight.

My eyelids drooped just for a second. Er, a few seconds. Okay, maybe a _lot_ of seconds. I had almost drifted off when I felt eight pounds of fluff land squarely on my chest, eliciting an "Oof!"

Cat Murphy settled all four paws on my sternum and stared at me from about two inches away, her tail lashing back and forth over my stomach. I arched an eyebrow. "May I help you, your worship?"

Cat Murphy leaned forward until her little wet pink nose brushed mine. She sniffed and licked the tip of my nose before curling up in her loaf position and settling down. Her fuzzy head brushed underneath my chin and then the calming buzz of her purr reverberated through my upper torso. In mere seconds, she had nodded off to sleep, leaving me with the usual horrible decision that all cat owners faced: stay in one spot for the foreseeable future or move and wake up the sleeping ball of fluff, which caused you to feel like a schmuck for a while.

I lifted one hand cautiously to scratch between her ears. The purring increased in volume. I fell asleep in under a minute, smiling to myself.

-

"Damn it. Why is there never a camera around when I need one?" Thomas' sarcasm woke me a few hours later. I rubbed my eyes and found him standing beside the couch with a smirk.

"Any luck?" I asked, yawning enough that the slumbering cat opened one eye to give me an insolent glare for waking her. I gave her an apologetic smile and rubbed the spot behind her ears some more. She shut her eye and went back to purring.

Thomas handed me a card with his handwriting on the back. "Did some snooping, followed some people, and I think I might have the location of the warlock's safe house. Once you're done catnapping, we can go after her."

"Right. Think she'll be okay by herself?"

Thomas just stared at me. "Yeah, that was a dumb question."

I scooped Cat Murphy carefully from my chest and settled her on one of the softest throw pillows I owned. She yawned, stretched her paws, and promptly went back asleep. I grinned and kissed the top of her fuzzy forehead. "Be back as soon as I can, furball. Don't scratch up my furniture."

By the time I turned, Thomas wore another shit-eating grin and I just held up my hand. "Don't want to hear it. Let's go."

I returned to the lab for the potion, mixed it in with the last of the tuna, and set it out for Cat Murphy. Mister was a picky eater, so I was relatively sure he wouldn't mess with it. I also didn't doubt Cat Murphy would take issue with him trying to claim her food. Thomas and I geared up and headed out into the cold Chicago night to catch ourselves a warlock.

-

Cat Murphy was still Cat Murphy when we returned an hour later, but she appeared to have eaten all the potion-infused tuna. I poked Bob about when it would start working and he gave me a noncommittal answer as usual, stating that magic wasn't an exact science. I would have threatened him more, but I could barely keep my damned eyes open. It was nearly four in the morning now and I'd be no good to anyone in my current state if I kept at it.

I shuffled off to the bathroom and took a shower. I had just returned to my bedroom in a towel when I found Cat Murphy on my bed despite the fact that I was sure I had closed the door.

"No, please make yourself at home," I said, running a small towel through my wet hair. I rummaged through my drawers for a fresh pair of boxers and damn near almost dropped my towel before remembering that my _best friend_ was sitting on the bed staring at me.

"Do you mind?" I asked Cat Murphy. She kept staring, and I swear, I saw something amused twinkle in those big blue eyes for a second.

I scowled. "Oh, you think I won't do it, huh?"

Cat Murphy licked her itty bitty pink toepads boredly. "Last chance, Murph."

She stretched out onto her belly and laid her head on both paws. I shrugged. "Fine. Suit yourself."

I changed into my boxers and threw on a sleeveless shirt. I heard no complaints.

I'd just barely lain down when Cat Murphy resumed her perch in the middle of my chest. Mister tended to go for my legs for whatever reason, but she seemed to like the spot closest to my heart. I pretended it didn't make something in my chest quiver a little.

"Sorry about all this, Murph," I murmured to the cat. "I don't know if you can understand me or not, but I still just wanted to say that out loud. You don't deserve this crap. I'm sorry I keep dragging you into this--"

Cat Murphy extended her paw and touched my lips. She flexed her claws for a second and then let go before curling up again. I scratched behind her ears. She purred. It filled the room with warmth and comfort, and I drifted off in seconds.

-

I woke up the next morning to an oddly familiar scenario, though it was one I hadn't experienced in a while. The faint scent of strawberry shampoo tickled my nose. Delicate, small hands gripped the front of my shirt. A toned leg was thrown over my thigh. Smooth, warm bare skin under my fingertips. Oh, _this_ dream again. Damn it. I really needed to beat the living shit out of Id Harry for giving me this damned dream all the time. He'd really gone out of his way this time. It felt so real.

Too real, in fact.

I frowned a bit as my brain started to shake the cobwebs off. Once my eyelids peeled back, I could see sunlight peeking in through the blinds and illuminating the golden hair and creamy shoulders of one very human Karrin Murphy.

One very _naked_ human Karrin Murphy.

Hell's bells. Why me?

Naturally, she woke up the exact moment I glanced down at her.

"Harry?" she mumbled, those big blue eyes so soft and beautiful from so close. Then they widened in shock as she realized she and I were entangled beneath the sheets and she was in her birthday suit.

"What the--" Murphy blushed crimson and scooted away from me. My hand shot out automatically to catch her arm before she tumbled right off the edge of the bed. Thankfully, she'd tugged most of the sheets with her so I didn't see anything more than just a flash of skin and then she caught her balance.

"Easy, easy," I said as I stumbled to my feet beside the bed. Murphy quickly tugged the sheets up over herself and wrapped them around her in a toga, glancing around at my bedroom in confusion.

"What's going on?"

"Remember the warlock last night?"

She frowned for a moment. "Yeah, I think so."

"Well, she, uh..." I cleared my throat. "Cast a spell on you and you've been recovering from it ever since."

"Which part of the recovery required me to be naked in your bed?" Murphy asked with the utmost suspicion. Not that I blamed her.

"That part was accidental," I admitted, blushing. "The potion must have kicked in overnight."

"What potion? What did she do to me?"

I scratched the back of my neck. "You, uh, you were...a cat."

Murphy stared at me. "What?"

I coughed. "Yeah."

"Is that a metaphor for something or--"

"No, you were literally an orange tabby for most of last night. Ask Thomas. Or Mister, for that matter."

"You're not joking, are you?"

"Hand to God, you were Garfield. Or Heathcliff, if you prefer."

Murphy pressed one hand over her face. "I hate you."

"I know."

She gathered the sheets around her and slid her legs over the side of the bed. I struggled not to let my gaze drop to admire what I could see of them as she shuffled over to one of my drawers and sifted through them. "Did you at least catch the bitch?"

"We did." I chewed my lower lip. "So you don't remember any part of last night?"

Murphy chose a plain grey t-shirt and a pair of shorts that had a drawstring. She shut the drawer and gave me a coy smile with the same sparkle in her eyes from last night during my, uh, wardrobe change.

"Do you mind?" she purred as she turned around with my clothes in her hands. I almost backpedaled as she walked towards me with purpose; one of those devastating hip-swinging walks that made guys like me forget how to function. She came to stop a few bare inches away, and it was all I had not to do something stupid like kiss the living daylights out of her. She lifted up on her tiptoes and the sadistic smile stretched those lips of hers further.

"What's the matter, Harry?" Murphy whispered in my ear. "Cat got your tongue?"

She left me standing there like an idiot and disappeared through the door, grinning like the cat that got the canary.


	47. Cheers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A new recruit arrives to the S.I. department and immediately learns a thing or two about Harry Dresden and Karrin Murphy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This seriously hit me out of nowhere and I'm so very glad it did. I am all about Harry being considered part of S.I. by certain folks there. I love the smaller scenes where we see he's actually comfortable with quite a few of them. I am also more than sure plenty of them are Shippers on Deck for Harry and Murphy. Please enjoy my musing.

_I can serenade and gently play on your heartstrings_

_Be a Valentino just for you_

_Ooh, love_

_Ooh, lover boy_

_What you did tonight!_

_Hey, boy!_

_Set my alarm_

_Turn on my charm_

_That's because I'm a good old fashioned lover boy_

_-"Good Old Fashioned Lover Boy" by Queen_

"Gibbs?"

The young cop immediately snapped to attention and whirled from where he'd been leaning over the box of things he'd been unpacking into his new desk.

"Lieutenant Murphy," he said, swallowing hard. "Yes ma'am? What can I do for you, ma'am?"

"Stop calling me ma'am, for one," she said, arching an eyebrow. "I just wanted to welcome you to S.I. My office is straight through there. Once you're settled, come on in and I'll brief you on your first assignment."

"Thank you, Lieutenant Murphy."

She gave him a polite nod and headed across the bullpen towards her office. Behind him, the newly minted cop heard a rumble of laughter from his partner.

"Jesus, rookie, calm down," Santiago laughed, clapping a hand on his shoulder.

"I can't help it, man," Gibbs said with a sigh. "She's something else. I saw a demonstration she did last week. Put a guy twice her size right on his ass. And have you seen her sharpshooter record? The woman's a beast. Never seen anything like her."

"You're right about that for sure," Santiago agreed, helping him unload a few office supplies. "But there's more to her than that, don't worry."

Gibbs affixed his name plate to the front of the desk just as a long shadow swept across it. He glanced up to see an absurdly tall dark-haired man approach wearing a long leather duster, faded jeans, and a t-shirt with the Star Wars logo on it. He looked a bit tired and underfed, but his smile was friendly as he walked over. "Hey, Santiago. What's shaking?"

Santiago beamed up at the stranger and shook his hand. "Same old, same old, man."

The tall man glanced at Gibbs. "Oh, hey, a new face. Nice to meet you."

Gibbs shook his hand as well. "Officer Gibbs. Nice to meet you, mister...?"

"Dresden," the man offered. "Welcome to S.I."

"Thanks."

The man nodded to Santiago. "So what kind of mood is she in?"

Santiago blew out a breath between pursed lips. "Well, it is a Monday, Dresden. How much do you value your life?"

The man's shoulders slumped. "Dammit. Forgot it was Monday. How's the coffee today?"

Santiago grinned. "You got lucky. Ruth brewed it."

"Oh, thank God, I could kiss you. Brush your teeth first, eh?"

Santiago punched him in the arm and the man walked away chuckling as he headed for the breakroom. He reappeared a few moments later with two paper cups and headed into Murphy's office. She sat at her desk with one hand in her blonde hair, scribbling something, and glanced up as the man walked inside.

Another cop walked over to Gibbs and Santiago's desks waving a bill in the air. "Alright, Santiago, I want my money back from last week. You game?"

Santiago pulled a twenty dollar bill out of his wallet and slapped it on the desk. "Oh, hell yeah. What's your wager, Marcus?"

Marcus nodded towards Murphy's open door. "Twenty bucks says Dresden can get her to smile in under ten minutes."

Santiago snatched the bill. "Oh, I'll take that bet. It's Monday, pal. Her caseload's already to the ceiling and she's working a double. Fifteen minutes."

Gibbs stared at the two of them in disbelief. "What the hell are you two doing?"

Santiago shook his head and leaned against the desk alongside Marcus. "Just watch, rookie."

Marcus kept an eye on the clock hanging against the wall. Sure enough, at the nine minute mark, Murphy's lips curled up into a genuine smile that lit her entire face up into something Gibbs honestly thought was absolutely gorgeous. The rookie's jaw dropped open.

Santiago sucked his teeth and handed over the money. "Dammit. He's getting better at this than I thought."

"W-Who the hell is that guy?" Gibbs sputtered. "Her boyfriend?"

Santiago and Marcus traded a look. "I mean, no, but close enough."

Gibbs continued watching the interaction. Murphy's posture was usually yardstick straight. Now she leaned back in her chair with her arms resting comfortably, something sly and humorous in her expression as she continued talking to the man. She sipped the coffee he'd brought her every so often, and he hadn't seen her adjust the amount of cream or sugar the guy had put in it, which meant he knew her preference. Gibbs was a trained cop. He knew body language. Something was definitely going on between Murphy and the stranger.

"Close enough? The hell does that mean?"

"You're kind of young so you might not remember, but did you ever watch Cheers?" Marcus asked.

Gibbs thought about it. "Yeah, used to see reruns sometimes. Why?"

Santiago pointed to the man. "Sam."

He then pointed to Murphy. "Diane."

Gibbs shook his head in disbelief. "You're kidding me. So they're always like this?"

"Yep."

"And they flirt a lot, but pretend like it's totally harmless and normal?"

"Yep."

"And you're sure they're not dating?"

"Yep."

Gibbs paused. "You always do this bet on Mondays?'

"For the most part, yeah."

Gibbs watched Murphy laugh and toss her pencil at the man as he exited her office.

"Put me down for fifty bucks next week."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Seriously, anyone with fucking eyeballs can tell these two idiots dig each other. I love it. *skitters back under the Harry/Murphy trashpile*


	48. Twerp Sweating

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry Dresden and Henry Rawlins have a little chat about a certain blonde cop. Takes place somewhere between Blood Rites and Dead Beat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So as I finished the previous chapter, I immediately got another idea for a new ficlet, so here you go. I regret nothing.
> 
> The chapter title is named after the trope it's embodying. I would never call Harry Dresden a twerp, I promise.

_Give her the time_  
_She'll know you mean it_  
_Make up her mind_  
_Throw in her feelings_  
_Open the door_  
_Have her jump through it_  
_She fell in love_  
_How could she do it?_  
_Do you know_  
_Do you know_  
_What you're missing, what you're missing_  
_Will show_  
_If you should try to kiss her?_  
_-"If You Should Try to Kiss Her" by Dressy Bessy_

"Dresden."

Harry turned from where he'd been leaning on the Blue Beetle watching the entrance to the pawn shop that Karrin Murphy had gone into several minutes ago. He smiled warmly and shook the older man's hand. "Hey, Rawlins. What brings you here?"

Rawlins brandished a folder. "I was on my way home and she needed me to drop off a file. She been in there long?"

Harry checked his watch. "About ten minutes now. Should be out in just a bit."

"Good." Rawlins sipped the coffee in his hand and offered a small paper bag in Harry's direction. The wizard glanced inside to see a chocolate iced donut. He grinned and fished it out, taking a bite.

"She's gonna kick your ass if she sees you with one of these."

Rawlins shrugged. "Gotta reach my ass first."

Harry laughed. "She'd also kick your ass for the short joke while she's at it."

"Ah, well. She's used to it by now." The two men watched the interrogation with interest. Harry read her lips a few times and smiled to himself as he saw the suspect start sweating bullets. She was a damn good cop, honestly the best one he knew by far.

Rawlins shook his head a bit. "Never gets old, does it?"

Harry smirked. "Not even remotely."

"How long's it been by now?"

"Hmm?" Harry asked through another mouthful of donut. Rawlins gestured towards Murphy.

"Since you two have been together."

Harry arched an eyebrow. "Wait, together? You mean working together, right?"

Rawlins gave him an even stare and bit into a donut. Harry cleared his throat. "Ah, I think maybe six or seven years?"

"Mm," Rawlins rumbled. "You know, in all that time, I've wondered why you never asked her out."

Harry choked on his donut. He beat his chest a few times until he dislodged the pastry and gave Rawlins an incredulous look. " _Excuse me?_ "

Rawlins smirked. "You heard me, Dresden. Come on, out with it."

"I--she--we're just friends," Harry sputtered, blushing madly and wiping the icing off one side of his lips with his thumb. "She's not even--I'm not even--seriously, where the hell is this coming from, man?"

"I've known her all her life."

"And?"

"And," he elaborated. "I know good and goddamn well you both like each other."

"Of course I like her," Harry grumbled, flustered. "I just said we're friends."

"Yeah-huh. Because friends stare at friends with that dopey smile the way you did a minute ago."

"Look, lay off, alright? It's not like that."

"Yet," Rawlins said. "But hey, if you're not ready, you're not ready. Just sayin'. If you happened to take a shot, I think you'd be good for her. She needs someone like you in her life."

"Oh, yeah?" Harry said, his voice thick with sarcasm. "Someone like what?"

"Someone who respects her. Cares about her. Believes in her. Wants what's best for her. Makes her laugh. Pretty sure there's nothing you wouldn't do for her if she needed it done. She deserves someone like that."

Rawlins cut his eyes over at Harry and for a split second, Harry noticed there was no humor in his tone nor in his gaze. "But if you screw it up, I'll destroy you."

Harry swallowed hard. Rawlins then smiled and held the bag out again. "Want the last one?"

"No, thank you," Harry said, his voice not quite a squeak.

The door to the pawn shop opened and Harry nearly jumped a foot in the air. Murphy strode out with her usual satisfied smile after she'd gotten what she needed out of a suspect. "Hey, Rawlins. Thanks for dropping this off."

"My pleasure, Lieutenant."

She scowled down at the paper bag. "That better not be a donut in there."

Rawlins winked. "Of course not. It's celery."

She punched him in the stomach lightly and he chuckled as he handed over both the paper bag and the folder. Murphy glanced at Harry and tilted her head slightly.

"Are you okay? Your face is red."

"Fine," Harry said quickly. "Ready?"

Murphy pursed her lips and eyed Rawlins. "What did you do to him, Henry?"

"Nothing."

Murphy crossed her arms and tapped her foot. "Henry."

Rawlins clapped a hand on Harry's shoulder. "Nothing major. Just shop talk."

Murphy sighed. "Go home before I murder you."

Rawlins laughed and headed back to his car. "Later, Lieutenant. Dresden."

He climbed into his car and drove off. Harry and Murphy got into the Blue Beetle and Harry cajoled the old car to life.

"He threatened you, didn't he?"

Harry glanced at her in shock. "How the--"

"That's the look Rick had on his face after they met. Did he give you a donut?"

"Yeah, why?"

"Dammit. I'm never going to hear the end of this."

"What's the donut mean?"

"That he approves of you."

"Well, la-dee-da. Man's not very subtle, is he?"

Murphy sent him a sly look. "Gee, sound like someone you know?"

Harry blushed harder. "I resent that."

"You resemble that."

"Eat your donut, Karrin."


	49. Only Time Will Tell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maggie Dresden meets Karrin Murphy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just got done with "Zoo Day" from Brief Cases, but don't worry, no spoilers. I just wanted to tackle Maggie Dresden's first impression of Karrin Murphy. IIRC, she was never fully awake enough to see Murphy during the events of Changes, but correct me if I'm wrong.

_"And it's a free for all_  
_Free for all, free for all_  
_It's a free for all, you and me_  
_One day the world will be ready for you_  
_And wonder how they didn't see_

_Spunky knows she can save the world_  
_In her own little way [...]_  
_I walk through the world with your name on my tongue_  
_And your picture etched on my screen..."_  
_-"Spunky" by Eels_

My dad, Harry Dresden, is nice. But he's awful clueless sometimes.

The stairs to my bedroom creaked under the weight of two people, two adults, and I heard them murmuring. Mouse's head perked up from my lap and he started grinning and wagging his tail, since he knew both of them. I didn't. I only knew one, and I was still getting to know him, to be honest.

"Are you sure?" a woman's warm, but worried voice asked in a hushed tone. "I don't want to overwhelm her. She's had enough to adjust to already."

"She's a strong kid," my dad said just as warmly, and my tummy got mushy all of the sudden. "A smart kid too. She can handle it. I promise."

He promised. My dad made a promise to this woman, so she must be important. I braced myself for whoever she might be, flicking my gaze down to the Hardy Boys book in my hand just before the doorknob turned.

"Hey, munchkin," my dad said, smiling. "How's the reading?"

"Hi, Daddy," I said. "It's good."

Mouse's tail wagged harder, bumping into my side, and I giggled a bit. It tickled.

"Maggie, I'd like you to meet a friend of mine." He pushed the door open far enough to reveal a short blonde woman with a sincere, but nervous smile on her lips. She was dressed in a green-and-black plaid shirt with a grey t-shirt and jeans and sneakers. Her eyes were large and blue. She was one of the prettiest ladies I'd ever seen.

"This is Karrin Murphy. She just wanted to meet you. Is that okay?"

I watched my dad for a moment. He was nervous. He wanted me to like her, but he didn't want it to seem that way. But I could tell from his tone that he meant what he'd asked. I could say no and he'd take the pretty lady away and try again another time. Well, I'd gotten to a slow chapter anyway.

"Yeah," I nodded. "It's okay."

The woman named Murphy nodded, more to herself than to my father, and stepped inside my room. She glanced at him over her shoulder once more, but he just smiled and winked before he shut the door. The wink seemed to relax her a bit; her shoulders lowered. So she was definitely his friend.

Mouse sat up as she walked towards the bed, panting loudly in excitement. Murphy chuckled under her breath and rubbed his ears. I could tell Mouse liked her almost as much as my dad, if not just as much. If Mouse liked someone, it usually meant he trusted them too. A small part of me relaxed.

"So Harry tells me you're quite the reader," Murphy said in a tone that reminded me of a prism; clear, but full of brightness and color. "I think he said you've already read thirty books this year."

I shrugged. "I guess so. I'm ahead of my class. They had to start giving me books from the next grade up to keep me busy."

"I see. Do you have any favorites yet?"

"I don't know," I said. "Judy Blume's not bad."

"Good choice. She was one of my favorites growing up."

I nibbled my lip. "Miss Molly mentioned you before. You help my dad fight monsters, right?"

She sent me a slightly surprised look, but she nodded all the same. "Sometimes."

"You're a cop?"

Murphy winced a tiny bit around her eyes. "I was."

"Oh. What happened?"

She licked her lips. Adults do that sometimes when they're trying to think of what to say. "I...had to make a very hard choice. A choice that my bosses didn't understand, so they made me leave the force."

"Oh," I said sadly. "I'm sorry. That sounds hard."

"It was, but..." She smiled again. "It was worth it."

"That's good. How long have you known my dad?"

She blew out a breath. "Um, wow, I don't know. A really long time now that I think about it."

I eyed her and then the door where he'd left through. "Are you like his girlfriend?"

Murphy blushed. She looked super cute. Mouse laughed his doggy laugh when he saw it. "I...don't know."

"How come you don't know?"

"Er, it's sort of a grownup thing."

"What is?"

"Girlfriend and boyfriend. It's kind of hard to explain."

I started to frown. "Hey, I'm grownup enough to understand."

Murphy stared at me for a moment and the remaining tension left her back. "Yes. I'm your dad's girlfriend."

"Then why didn't you just say so?"

"Well, because it might seem like I'm stealing him away or something, and I'd never want you to think that. I don't want you to ever feel like you're second in his life or anything. You aren't. He loves you dearly. He'd do anything for you at the drop of a hat."

"My dad hates hats," I said severely, and she laughed. It was a great laugh. I liked it. Mouse did too.

"So are you gonna be around a lot?"

"Maybe," Murphy said, brushing her gold hair out of her eyes. "If you'd like me to be."

"Hmm," I said. "Do you like books?"

"Of course."

"Here," I said, handing her the book. "Don't lose my spot. Right there. Read to me."

I made Mouse scoot over so she could sit. "For how long?"

I grabbed a pillow and propped it up behind me against the wall, grinning. "We'll find out together."

Murphy smiled back and started reading out loud. Her voice was strong and yet soft in the right places. Fearless. Kind. Resonant.

No wonder my dad liked her.

I think I did too.

Maybe. Time will tell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There will be a Part Two from Mouse's POV, since I honestly think Mouse's POV of "Zoo Day" was the best one.


	50. Animals

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mouse's musings about Harry and Murphy. He's a hound with a plan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's Part 2 of the promised POV ficlets inspired by "Zoo Day" from Brief Cases.

 

_"Oh, oh, I want some more_

_Oh, oh, what are you waiting for?_

_What are you waiting for?_

_Take a bite of my heart tonight_

_Here were are again_

_I feel the chemicals kickin' in_

_It's gettin' heavy_

_And I wanna run and hide_

_I wanna run and hide_

_I do it every time_

_You're killing me now_

_And I won't be denied by you_

_The animal inside of you..."_

_-"Animal" by Neon Trees_

 

My Friend Harry Dresden is wonderful. My Friend Harry Dresden is also dumb.

Not intelligence-wise, mind you. He's not incompetent in general matters. He's survived this long by being clever and thinking before he acts (well, most of the time) and looking at a problem from more than just the obvious perspective.

But in matters of the Heart, My Friend is dumb.

How do I know that?

My Friend has a Friend. Lady Friend.

Lady Friend is small. She smells like strawberries and gun oil and white linen. Lady Friend doesn't smile a lot when we're out in public, but when she's with My Friend, she smiles. Lady Friend has clean hands and she always checks them before she rubs my ears, which I appreciate. My Friend sometimes forgets, but I don't mind because he is My Friend. I met Lady Friend when I was just a puppy. She's great at tummy rubs, and she protects My Friend with her life. I like Lady Friend.

And so does My Friend.

This is why My Friend is dumb.

It should be obvious to both of them, but it is not for some reason. What do dogs do when they like a mate? Shelter them. Protect them. Groom them. Sleep next to them.

Lady Friend spends the night sometimes if she and My Friend are working a case late into the evening.

Lady Friend offers to help My Friend when things get dangerous. She is very good with her gun. She hits hard and always in the right spots. Her enemies go down quickly, and many of them go down long before laying a hand on her or My Friend.

Lady Friend musses My Friend's hair when she teases him, and once or twice, I've seen her cut his hair.

Lady Friend and My Friend fall asleep on the couch sometimes, her head on his shoulder, his arm along the back of the couch. She isn't even bothered by My Friend's Loud Sleeping Noises.

And yet My Friend and Lady Friend are not mates.

I have thought long and hard on how to accomplish this goal, as it vexes me so. Sometimes I sit next to Dangerous Friend, My Friend's brother, and we commiserate as we watch them interact.

"Unbelievable," Dangerous Friend mutters, his grey eyes fixed on the two of them as they bicker in the kitchen. He lifts some popcorn to his mouth, then tosses a kernel to me. I snap it up and wait for him to throw another. "Can you believe these chuckleheads have known each other for years and nothing's ever happened?"

I nod sagely and rumble in agreement. Dangerous Friend sighs. "I don't know what the hell it would take to get these dorks to see what's right in front of them. Any ideas, Slobberwocky?"

I cock my head to one side, thinking about it after eating the next piece of popcorn. Crunch, crunch. Food helps me think.

Something pops into my head. I stand and walk over to the coffee table. I nose through the mail until I find the slip of paper with My Friend's scent on it. I drop it into Dangerous Friend's lap. He lifts an eyebrow at me, but picks it up.

He looks back at me and grins. "I owe you a jar of peanut butter, furball."

I thump my tail hard on the floor in approval. Peanut butter is for Good Boys. Peanut butter is life.

Dangerous Friend clears his throat and stands up with the slip of paper in hand. "Hey, Harry, didn't you say you wanted to go see that musical? What's it called? Hamilton, right?"

-

My Friend, Lady Friend, and Dangerous Friend leave that night for the thing he called Hamilton. I eat my dinner (and my peanut butter) and take a nap. It's late when they return. However, Dangerous Friend isn't with them this time.

"--can't believe him," My Friend says in an offended tone as he holds the door open for Lady Friend. "Who walks out of a musical that damned amazing and doesn't come back? He'd better have a good excuse. I mean, he had to have called in a helluva favor to even get tickets, so why would he bail?"

"Your guess is as good as mine," Lady Friend says. She smiles as she spots me next to the couch and walks over, scratching under my chin. Lady Friend is great at this also.

"I mean, he missed the whole second act and there's not hide nor hair of him. If it was an emergency, he'd have told me, right?"

"Of course, Harry," Lady Friend said, dusting off her hands. "He's just being Thomas. You know, overdramatic and mysterious."

My Friend sighs. "If I didn't know any better, I'd swear--"

He abruptly stops talking. My tail starts wagging as I see the light in his eyes.

"You'd swear what?" Lady Friend asks.

"Ah," My Friend licks his lips and chuckles nervously. "Promise not to hit me."

"No."

"Well, fair enough. My brother has this idiotic notion that, uh, you and I should...you know..." My Friend fidgets and scratches the back of his neck.

He clears his throat and lifts his eyebrows. Lady Friend finally notices it and she blushes. "Oh, you've got to be kidding me."

"I wouldn't put it past him, honestly."

"He ditched us so we'd be alone on a date?"

Harry shrugged. "Best I can figure."

"Classic Thomas," Lady Friend growls. "I'm going to strangle him."

"I'll help. Although, that being said..." My Friend clears his throat again. "It was fun."

Lady Friend smiles. "It was, actually."

They're both quiet for a bit. I sense My Friend wants to say more, but he's hesitating. I nearly roll my eyes and stand up. They both glance at me as I walk over. I make a disapproving sound and nudge Lady Friend closer to My Friend.

"And he's doing what exactly?" Lady Friend asks, partly amused as I gently bump her into My Friend's proximity.

"Being really presumptuous," Harry says, glaring at me. "Hey, this is grownup talk. No dogs allowed."

I set my paws firmly and stare at the both of them, giving them a warning. Lady Friend starts giggling.

"I think he means business."

"Oh, don't encourage him," My Friend groans.

Lady Friend is facing away from me towards My Friend. She puts a hand on her hip and I hear that tone she only uses when she's around him. "Well, if I repulse you that much, I guess I'll just be on my way, Dresden."

My Friend blushes. "You know that's not what I meant."

"And yet here I stand, un-kissed at the end of our first fake date."

A stubborn look crosses My Friend's face. "Oh, you asked for it, Murphy."

He catches the back of her neck and pulls her the last few inches to him. Their lips meet. Humans are odd. Dogs show affection with their mouths too, but in a different way. The human way is just weird. I much prefer licking to touching muzzles.

Then again, from what I can tell, there is quite a bit of licking going on...

My Friend lets go. His face is red, but he's smiling. I still can't see Lady Friend, but I bet my best treat she is smiling too.

"Thanks for the ticket," she says. "Don't ever tell anyone I kissed you because your dog said so."

My Friend laughs that wonderful rumbling laugh. "My lips are sealed."

Lady Friend takes the cue and grabs My Friend by the collar. Their mouths touch again, but much more gently this time. I hear her smile this time.

"You bet your ass they are, Dresden."

My Friend is not so dumb after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I did in fact have a shiteating grin on my face the entire time I wrote this. Thank you for noticing.
> 
> Also, Happy 50th Chapter. At the rate Jim Butcher is going, there'll be another 50 chapters to this collection before we get Peace Talks.
> 
> *Phil K Sebben voice* HA HA HA! Bitter.


End file.
